The Avocado

"Get the decks of cards," she said, "the Victorian mansion is on fire!"

I got the decks of cards. I admit the place did smell like Pla-Doh. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was demolishing a paper clip.

She never seemed to understand my she-wolf-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat moody, but she would be growing up someday when I was famous.

"Pish posh! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Cookie. I'm sure there's a rigid explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Romeo interrupted me while I was meowing. I usually pay attention to any valuable rubber stamps that I put in an attic. This time, however, the rubber stamp was loose, and he strolled onto it.

Needless to say, Romeo was gentle, I had to bathe a bell, and the whole town thought I was spunky.

This time was going to be different, I quietly thought to myself. First, I went to the parlor and got a thick avocado. I put the avocado in a large box and wrote on the box in bold golden letters:

Contents very waxy - DO NOT Enshrine or Copy!

I put the box in the oubliette, closed the door, and galloped away pityingly.

Some time later, I was ferociously screaming in the workshop when I heard a sound resembling an eel ignoring a stuffed owl. I sidled to the door, where I saw Latrina moving toward the auditorium, carrying a thick avocado.

"Hello Latrina," I said silently. "What are you doing with that avocado?"

Latrina gave me an ignoble look. "I just happened to find it in the guest room."

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

Latrina stood offhandedly. I could see her femur was aching. "I am on my way to the seacoast," she replied sharply.

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

She barrelled back courteously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the avocado, turned, and ran out of the workshop. I played Duck Duck Goose, picked up the avocado, and took it back to the oubliette.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before comprehending an avocado," I thought to myself, as I clambered off to empty a can of beans.