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Sunday, November 25, 2012

Buckminster & Amber - 14

I didn’t count on rain.

It rains a lot here in Seattle. Sun’s out, then it rains. The sun comes out again, and then it rains again—like that all day. It poured down all last night. I slept under a car and got grease on my back . . . no way that I can lick that off.

I wonder where boots goes to get out of the rain. There he is now, with a mouse in his mouth. Yuk! He trots between two houses and then disappears.
I’m hungry!
Minutes pass. He’s back again. “What’s up?” I ask.
“The same ole same ole, Pussy. That expensive coat of yours don’t look so good today.”
“Yeah. Where did you sleep last night?”
“At home of course. Inside,” he says.
“Your servants let you come and go?” I ask him.
“Sure. Got my own door,” he says. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
His own door? Boots has got my curiosity, which isn’t all that difficult. I follow him. He jumps inside and then peeks out. Some kind of floppy thing . . .”

“Come on inside,” he says. “I’ll show you around.”
It looks a little like the laundry room where I escaped, but what’s drawn my attention is a bowl of dried food. Boots has seen me looking.
“Hungry? Be my guest,” he says. “I’m not that in to dried food. Real males need red meat—blood fresh,” he adds.
“I got red meat when I was home,” I tell him.
“Probably canned,” he says. But I don’t pay him much attention, busy crunching down the dried food. There’s a nice fresh water bowl right next to it.
“Don’t even think of making this a habit,” Boots says. “Go find yourself some mice. Of course they’re fast. Are you fast, Pussy?”
“Fast enough,” I tell him.
“Then you should be looking under decks . . . like the one in back of the house where you used to live with your girl friend. That’s where they hang out. But stay away from your place. Servants have been looking for you. They were all around the yard this morning—looking under bushes for you.”
“Right. I’ll catch you later,” I say as I’m jumping out.
“You couldn’t catch me on a bet,” he says.
I feel him watching me as I head back toward the street. Not sure what’s next.

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