Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Mai Tox Skreen, Innerpol, an Othr Stuff I’d Rathr Fergit

Musashi Sez:

Wen I fynlee wokd up “hoomin” as Alek wud sae (by whitch he seemd to meen abul to feel with all six sensiz), it wuz about 2 daes latr. An I got to sae it wuz a verree looong 2 daes. As I wuz comin up out of the Horribulz, I cud heer evrboddee tipee-toin around, incloodin Alek an Pero an som othr folk… I jus kept mai hed unner blankit.

Mom Says:

What Agent Octavian didn’t know yet was that telegrams expressing solidarity had been coming in all day—from Sam Spade: Jimbond; Nick, Nora & Asta; John Le Carré’s cat; Snoopy and Woodstock; Austin Powers; Mooch & Earl; and everybody back at the Mysiz training facility in England. And his Mom had sent a Very Stiff Note to M in England.

Meanwhile, a local Mysiz operative, a Ginger cat with an MD degree and a broad Scots burr, had come, taken a blood sample (along with disapproving ironic asides), gone away to run a toxicity screen, and come back—luckily for everyone—with a more conciliatory attitude.

Musashi Sez:

Howevr, the spy trainin I had got did at leest warn me that sutch kinda daes (or nigts, akshulee) migt well happn. So I wuzn’t totalee surpryzd; jus pist off.

Alek, on the othr paw, wuz qwite pleezd. He seemd to thingk that the whol “egzersyz” wuz werth it. He argued that “cleerlee” them French wer takykin me srsly.

An I sed, (as yu’d egspegt ), “Alek, whutchu talkin about?”

He grinnd (an I nu I wuz in trubbl). “Hah, hah! Isn’t it obvious?”

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

That Afrmath Thin

Mom Says:

According to the Don’t-Embarrass-the-Kittee Act of 1627, I am prohibited from telling what happened between Agent Octavian and the Parisian gendarmes. Let’s just say that Alek and Zora’s secretaire des affaires bailed them out and took them back to their people. And of course, when I say people, I mean it in the broadest way possible.

Octavian was giddy throughout most of it, but by the time they reached the hotel, the fun part of the Nip Fit had pretty much passed, leaving him not only miserable, but also quite thoroughly wet.

Musashi Sez:

Alek laid me down on the orinj bed. I din’t eevn want to crawl out of the blankit. Pero tried to lik mai hed, jus lyk he’d don befor, but I cudn’t figt bak or eevn be sarkastik. I wuz jus too mizerabul.

I sed, “I thingk I’m goin to pyook.”

Pero bakt off.

Alek sighed. “It’ll wear off eventually, old chap.”

The nigt, unforchoonitlee, got considrablee longer.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Two Cats in the Fountain

Mom Says:

Octavian’s ears were temporarily underwater, but had anyone been standing close enough—a Russian spy, say, or a monk dedicated to Our Lady of Ceiling Cat, or even operatives of Dr. Woof, for example—they might have heard the Persian kittee giggle, jingle her collar tags, and say, “O, whut ze hell!” just before she leaped into the fountain with an almighty SPLASH!

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Zelda and F. Stop

Mom Says:

Agent Octavian, under the influence of a few dinner courses containing very fresh ‘Nip, was feeling unexpectedly Nippy. He leaped several steps at a time, like a kitten. He twirled and spoke po-etry about the twirling stars and banners of light they made against the night sky.

And then, when they had reached the famous fountain at La Place de la Concorde, he suddenly yelled, “Huh! Don’t be fraydee kittee! Yu kin be Zelda, Zora, an I’ll be F. Stop Fitzjeruld! Whooeee!”

He zipped from her side in a streak of black fur and leaped! The ensuing splash drew the attention of all the humans in the area, who pointed and laughed.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Metro Kitteez out on the Town

Musashi Sez:

Let’s be honnist: Zora an me wobbld our wae to the Metro stayshun, trotted down the stayrz, an then leapd! ovr the turnstylz. The whol plays wuz fool of whit stuff and steel an othr shinee thins. We tukd the trayn from wher we wer to the Plos de la Concord an then we went abuv-groun.

An I gotta sae, the Plos wuz pertee impressive! The wadder flowed up an ovr an into the big wadder-dish so big that Ceilin Cat cud com down an dringk frum it. It wuz, yu migt sae, hyoojlee inspirayshunl.

It tolkd to us whu wuz standin ther, thingkin about wadder! It sed, “Splish! Splash-splash-splash! Swoosh! Splash-splash” [and I qwote!]. Cleerlee, we needs to investigerayt sutch a pfernomernon!

(An then I thogt, “Huh. Ther is thingkin an ther is praktis (praxis).” I has lernd this from nappin on Mom’s books. An I noe that Mom wud sae that it not about 1 versus the othr; it about 1 AND the othr, eevn wen the othr is sorta oppazit. But I still not shur how all this fansee thee-o-lojikl stuff apply to the splashy-splashy fountin. But then agen, Mom sez that 1 of her perfessrz sed, “I offin rekkamenz confyoozhun as the most honnist respons to theez isshuz.” (Wills, 2/11/10). Wull, heck, mebbe he’s akshullee rigt!)

Weirdr thins has happind.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

That Ther Eevnin Gets Mor Innerestin!

Mom Says:

With the steam from their Not-Exactly-Hot-Chocolate drinks rising to their sensitive feline noses, Zora and Octavian sipped and chatted.

“O! Octaviannn! I feel so ligt-heddeed. I theenk I weel need som ayrr.”

“Wull, we kin tayk a walk, see yer pertee cittee at nigt. Izn’t Paris sposta be the cittee of ligts? I hasn’t seen them yet, cuz I onlee get out durin the dae.”

“Qwa? Yu meenz yu has not seen ze Palace de la Concorrrde? C’est amposeebla! We mus’ feex zat immédiatement! Ah, but I am a leetl fooll from deenayrr. I kin not walk all thee wae, an mai chauffeur is not due bak for a whil…”

“Kin we tayk the Metro? I has not seen that either.”

“Ah, le Métro! Qu'une idée magnifique!”

The waiter returned with an unobtrusive little tray on which lay a small bill and an even smaller inkpad. Zora patted her paw on the pad and then on the bill. With his other hand, the waiter wiped the excess ink off her paw. “Merci, Mademoiselle, Monsieur. Appréciez-vous votre soir.”

Then Zora and Agent Octavian leaped down from their seats and trotted side-by-side out the unobtrusive and very expensive front door.

Monday, March 8, 2010

An Eevnin to Rememembrer

Musashi Sez:

Mai dinnr wift Zora went grayt! I wuz debonayr an intrestin (jus lik yu’d egspect), an the nomz wer out of this werld!!!

Mom Says:

As the lights dimmed and the Catnip Royale flowed, the two felines exchanged les bons mots even while doing the delicate dance of industrial espionage (or just espionage espionage), feeling out where the other cat stood and how much he/she knew, was willing to tell about the international catnip trade: the power plays, the important deals, the preferred fertilizer, the possibilities of additives, pesticides, grafting et les autres choses…

After they had finished their fancy noms, Zora murmured and the red-vested waiter appeared.

“Ah, Mam’zelle, would you care for the hot chocolate menu? Tonight we have Pear Belle-Hélène style hot chocolate, hot chocolate flavoured with pink berries, and hot chocolate perfumed with fleur d’herbe à chats.”


“Er, I’ll pass, merci. My vet stronglee recommend agenst the choclit.” He was proud of himself for rememembering that fact, especially as he was feeling extraordinarily blissful, almost as if he wanted to rub his face on the table cloth or climb the curtains like a gazelle, or a panther, or whatever wild thing it was that customarily climbed curtains out in the Sahara or the veldt or Hollywood.

But the waiter said, “Oh, pardonnez-moi, Monsieur. I thought you knew. Our feline hot chocolate menu is made strictly with carob. It has none of the dangers your physician was concerned about, I assure you.”

“O! Well, then… Whut do yu sugjest, Zora? We had my choys fer dinnr, so we shud hav yer choys fer dezzert!”

“So kind. I weel hav, zen, ze Pear Belle- Hélène, and mon ami heer weel hav l'herbe à chats.”

“Very well.”

He took their plates and left them. Octavian said, “Zora, tell me, how com yu started yer biznis aneewae? Why doggee toyz? In ‘Merika, dogs an cats don’t alwaes get along so gud.”

“Ah well, racial relationz in les Etats-Unis are somewhat, how shall I say, straynd? Ze hoomanz hav zis problemme in la France as well. Mais, nous les chats et les chiens se sont entendu historiquement tout à fait bien, avec l'exception des Guerres Napoléoniennes, parce que Napoléon, il était une personne de chien, vous savez.”

“Um…Akshul, I dozn’t savez, Zora. Yu has gon beyond mai Frentch. Yu sez we cats and dogs did somthin?”

“Oh! A souzand pardonnes, Octaviannn! Ze catneep iz goeeng to mai hed! Yes, we hav historically gotten along quite well, weeth the exception of the Napoleonic Wars, because Napoleon, he was a dog personne, yu noe.”

“Reellee? I had no ideer!”

“Well, we chats don’t lik to talk about eet, an ze doggeez arrr verrree unnerstandeeng theez daez. We trai to focus on our, what yu sae, commonaliteez.”

The waiter returned with their drinks in china saucers. “Do be careful,” he said. “They will be a bit hot at first. Enjoy.”

They sniffed at the steaming saucers cautiously but with appreciation. Octavian felt free-er and more confident than ever before.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Perulz of Fansee Noms

Mom Says:

When the waiter had gone, Musashi said, “This plays hav gud ombions. Does they do Fung Shway in Paris lik they does in Hong Kong?”

“Er, not that I noe of…”

“Pitee. This plays is purfekt, egsept fer it not have a fish tank.”

Zora nodded. “We cannot hav evrreesing… Steell, eet eez gud eenugf for the yeerlee Parees Agricultural Show. Thees yeer ees the 47th tim eet has gon on. Eet eez verree egsyteeng: thee farmeeng werld comes to Parees for the fair each year to offer an absorbeeng eensight eento the werld of French farmeeng.”

“Eet doz? Er, I meens, it does?”

“Mais oui! Thees yeer zey arr focuseeng on agricultural innovation and research, yu noe, on the eeffects and eempact of agricultural research on the environment, an fud and dailee life. Yu shud com eef yu arr steell heer.”

Hmm, thought Agent Octavian, innovation? Genetic mutations? SuperNip? He knew he was reasoning beyond his data, but his mind felt supremely clear. Deer Ceiling Cat in Hevvin, theez peeples hav got to be stopt! I’ll hav to remembembrer to tell Alek to stop them wen I gets bak to the hotel.

Which just goes to show, as Pero would point out, that sometimes fansee noms get the upper paw over even the best of agents…