What the Cat Said

"Love is fine for all we know
For all we know, our love will grow
That's what the cat said
So won't you listen to what the cat said?

"Actually," said the Monk, "I wouldn't listen to any talking cats if I were you, Ms. Doodlevecter.  Indeed, what has the little alley denizen told you about our illustrious order?"

He was actually rather vague about "your" order, your monkness.   If you click HERE, it details pretty much what he told me.

"Oh, I see," casting a sideways scowl at the cat, "he told you all that, did he?" "Well just to be clear, we are not a bunch of alcoholic hedonists, but this is a story best told with a tad bit of the fruit of the vine.  Ms. Doodlevector could I interest you in a  2007 Château de Beaucastel Châteauneuf-du-Pape? We have plenty of in the celler.  Got a good deal on it.  We buy in bulk."

"No thanks, said Susie.  "I think I had a long night last night."

"I can vouch for that," said the cat, leaping from the table into Susie's lap. 

Susie looked down to stroke the cat who quickly curled up on her lap.

"So how is it you and the cat know each other, Ms. Doodlevector?

"We share a vagina," giggled Susie.

"I can see that.  That's from Birdman, that delightful movie with Michael Keaton, right?  Well, in any event," the monk paused thoughtfully, taking a big gulp of the wine, "We are not a bunch of hedonists.  Indeed, Sister Ignatia, when was the last time I had sex?"

"With me, or just in general?  I should say its been at least two days since we had sex.   Last Thursday was a real humdinger as I recall."

"Yes, Ignatia, that was quite good wasn't it.  Enacting appendix 32a of the Illustrated text has always been very provoking if I do say so."

"Well, I suppose," yawned the cat lazily, "we could continue with this little charade or we could let our visitor here open the envelope."

"What envelope?" said Susie.

"Since you are into Birdman, let me tell you that 'a thing is a thing, not what is said of that thing.'"

"I don't remember that from the movie."

"Oh it was there.  And in my dreams, there are always envelopes.  So why don't you just give her the envelope Mr. Monk?"  said the cat, now perching up expectantly on Susie's thighs.

"Here you go Ms. Doodlevecter," don't say I didn't warn you.

Susie took the red envelope and carefully opened it.  She began reading the card inside:

"When consciousness of a discrete self returns, the glow fades.   The moment loses its luster.  We become disconnected and adrift again. Then and only then....."

"You gave her the wrong envelope," interrupted the cat.  I wanted to give her that one later.   Give her the blue envelope."

The monk quickly produced the blue envelope, which Susie opened and read aloud:

"Come fly with me."

With that incantation, the room darkened and Susie was buffeted by a great gust of wind.   The top of Susie's head opened up (not literally of course, only metaphorically) into a great blinding light.  Susie found herself looking down from a great height on the French countryside.

"The view is much better up here, don't you agree?" laughed the cat, hanging next to her on a tandem para-glider.   "In a dream, flying is wonderful.  We don't even need the glider."

And with that the cat let go of the glider and floated up next to her.  "Come join me.  We have places to go, people to see, and more wine to drink."

And of course, even when she was awake, Susie rarely backed down from a challenge.  With only a moment of hesitation, she let go of the para-glider.

(St Louis excursion, first this

Then this

The next day found a bike ride in the heat to be too excessive.  Need to be nicer to the pseudopumpkin