Not What I Wanted
Dear Fluffystuff,
Today has been the worst day of my existence! My morning was tolerable: I ate a plate of fine fish for breakfast, I took my morning nap, but I awakened in a panic realizing that my performance of King Lear is just two weeks away, and it’s been ages since I had my fur styled. You and I both know my performance will be magnificent, but imagine the embarrassment if my furs were a little less than magnificent. I’d heard that Cocobean is working at a new fur salon for fancy kitties, Salon de Fluff, so I thought I’d stop in for a new coiffure (she calls herself an artiste de coif!) I explained to her that I would like my furs to evoke the feeling of a modern-day Napoleon, the Great Empereur, and you wouldn’t believe the look she gave me! Two hours in her horrible chair, dressed in a pea green smock, and you see what has become of me: I look like a melted grocery store cupcake!
My brothers accompanied me, of course, and their behavior was disgraceful. Sneakers got stuck stuffing his enormous self underneath the sofa, and had to be removed with a shovel. Braesnut had his sparse head furs put in rollers, and he likes them so much he refuses to take them out. The only reason I continue to live is the dim hope of my great role as something-or-other in King Lear – I really must read the play soon! – and the fact that Cocobean assures me she can return my furs to their original state. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Fondly,