Cat In An Alien X-Ray

People still stagger in and out, under and even around Goliath’s mighty legs. Perhaps I should give up the quest. I yawn and glance around the mostly empty driveway.

A flash of neon light attracts my fatigued gaze to Goliath’s other sandal. It appears something gaudy is glittering beneath it. Hmm. I only recently uncovered a ruby earring under a bridal hem. I scan the area, then slink fast and silent to the other sandal, nosing into the shadow.

Whomp! I have run face-first into a thornbush, or a bee, or a porcupine.

As my eyes adjust to the change from dark to light to dark, I realize what drew me was the green reflection at the back of a golden eye.

“Louise! What are you doing here and why are you whacking me?” I stroke a mitt across my kisser, feeling the slight sting of four claws to the chops.

“This is my temporary territory,” she announces. “When did you show up?”

“I was here first. I had staked out the other sandal while my prey vanished inside.”

“Really? I was here first, but my prey has performed the same dirty trick as yours.”

“It is diabolical when these humans escape into pigeon coops with three thousand cubicles. Perhaps we are tailing the same individual?” I suggest.

“You say first.”

I am reluctant to commit. Discretion is a professional responsibility. “I came from the south,” I concede.

“I came from the northeast.”

We settle down to sit and mull that information.

“You are not tailing your roommate, as is your wont?” she asks.

“Nope. Not my want right now.”

“Then you are tailing Mr. Matt Devine. The Circle Ritz is south of here.”

“And I suppose you, Louise, are on the trail of your crush, Mr. Max Kinsella.”

“Ridiculous charge! I merely keep an eye on him because he is always after someone who is up to no good.”

“Hmm. I am here because I fear Mr. Matt is up to no good.”

“Maybe he is whom Mr. Max is tailing?”

“That is not good.” I sit half-up, senses sharpened. “Mr. Matt is leaving.”

“Poor man. He looks very downcast and … furtive.”

“My poor Miss Temple!”

“Aha! You are an idiot if I say so myself. Your Miss Temple is following him out on her high heels.”

“My Miss Temple is home in bed, where she should be, and I should be there with her.”

“I am sure your devotion goes over well with Mr. Matt.”

“None of your business! And are you blind? That is not Miss Temple. She does not wear high heels of that instep-mangling height. That woman wears true stilettos.”

“Sharp,” Louise purrs admiringly.