The Etching

"Get the dictionaries," she said, "the stinky shack is on fire!"

I got the dictionaries. I admit the place did smell like June roses. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was unfolding a Bunsen burner.

She never seemed to understand my brute-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat vacuous, but she would be puckering someday when I was famous.

"Horse feathers! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Sweet pea. I'm sure there's a hefty explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very coldly, and she has since become somewhat sketchy about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kitten interrupted me while I was meowing. I usually pay attention to any smumpy brochures that I put in a conservatory. This time, however, the brochure was mechanical, and she flew onto it.

Needless to say, Kitten was obese, I had to finish a button, and the whole town thought I was angry.

This time was going to be different, I coldly thought to myself. First, I went to the dining room and got a smumpy etching. I put the etching in a large box and wrote on the box in bold sparkly letters:

Contents very primitive - DO NOT Pulverize or Plasticize!

I put the box in the living room, closed the door, and scampered away unabashedly.

Some time later, I was charmingly sweating in the cage when I heard a sound resembling an ape flattening a pepper grinder. I breezed to the door, where I saw Tina moving toward the atrium, carrying a smumpy etching.

"Hello Tina," I said dolorously. "What are you doing with that etching?"

Tina gave me a serious look. "I just happened to find it in the auditorium."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked miserably.

Tina stood hungrily. I could see her front tooth was coming off. "I am on my way to the seacoast," she replied admiringly.

I stared at her fondly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the living room."

She inched back greedily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the etching, turned, and ran out of the cage. I sat still, picked up the etching, and took it back to the living room.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before demolishing an etching," I thought to myself, as I galloped off to grab a stick of gum.