3 minute read

Henrietta

It’s well documented that I am no fan of felis catus, A.K.A. the ordinary house cat. My disdain for this lesser species has been the subject of everything from my fan's letters to Dragon Lady’s preposterous idea of “sending me to therapy to deal with my unkind thoughts for my cousin the cat." What the___! My cousin??!! The woman is totally mad. Her demented statement prompted me to suggest she get an MRI to see if she has brain atrophy, which, of course, landed me in a not-so-good place. Actually, it landed me in Hell. For my punishment, she gave me the assignment of covering the upcoming Feline Festival. If I could insert an emoji in this moment, it would be Edvard Munch's The Scream. Note to self: Diarrhea of the mouth will get you nowhere when speaking to your mother.

Oh, but we're not done yet. In addition to this punishment that is worse than being banished to an island with no chocolate croissants, my entire month is going to be unbearable given that the annual cat feature is in discussion for an upcoming issue. The office will be All Things Cat for 30 days! In desperation, I headed to the Salty Dog for a mind-altering beverage. As I sat thankfully alone, pondering how I could con my way out of the Feline Festival and into the Epicurean Gastro Festival next week, Cousin Harold pulled up a barstool and brilliantly inquired, “Hi Henrietta, what are you up to?”, to which I replied with the most tolerant thing I could think of given my foul mood, “Oh, just climbing Mt. Everest. How about you?” The boy is so daft he didn’t even take offense. He also didn’t go away and leave me alone. So, after slogging down a couple of Dirty Dog IPA’s (my new fave brew), I figured I might as well talk to him. We chatted about my plot to infiltrate the biggest food festival to ever hit town, which led us to talk about how bikini season has ARRIVED but my biggie-sized rear-end hasn’t LEFT and how Aunt Hilda really needed to do something about that weird growth on her face. While enjoying this scholarly and thoroughly mindprovoking dialogue, the person I would most like to send on a plane to nowhere walked in.

Felicity Farnsworth arrived wearing her new Swarovski collar around her pompous poodle neck. Great. My mood just went from irritable to squalid.

“Hey Henrietta, why the long face? Did you drop your donut?" The nerve. Quick to my mental feet, I re- plied, “Felicity, I’m not saying I hate you but I often catch myself fantasizing about you being attacked by Honey Badgers while walking barefoot on hot bricks.” Of course she didn’t get the clue that I wanted her anywhere but near me so she pulled up a barstool and sat her fancy pants down. Really? Amazing. Not only do I have to contend with cousin Harold’s gibberish, now I have to put up with my number one nemesis. I ordered another Dirty Dog IPA.

So, as Felicity chatted on and on about her new nail color “chambray”, and how she got terrible blisters from her Jimmy Choo stilettos at the annual Human Awareness Gala and how her last trip to Palm Beach was spoiled by the unfortunate appearance of some mangy stray dogs near her favorite Italian Bistro, my mind went totally numb and next thing I knew, I was back to thinking about an entire month of CAT topics being discussed at the office. Oh the misery!

For those of you who haven’t been around long enough to remember my storied past with felis catus and might not understand my abhorrence to the species, let's just say it's an inherent dislike for their anti-social, uppity, finicky, selffocused and dare I say de-MEAN-or. Yes, i said it. They are downright mean. Have you ever tried to pet a cat only to have them turn around and bite you? Not nice at all. There could also be something to the time back in grade school when we had Champions Day and I was chosen to compete for Best Hunter...against a CAT! Well...let's just say the cat got the mouse and I got laughed out of school. That was a CATASS-TROPHE.

So, you see why I feel the way I do and why being banished to cover the Feline Festival will be HELL...well, maybe I'll get to meet a HellCat, which I've always wanted to do...and, well...maybe they will have some yummy sushi to eat...and, well...maybe they will be selling Hello Kitty jewelry...and well...Ok, I'll go!

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