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Here Kitty By Tamara Sheehan
If you give me that cat, I’ll give you a dollar. I haven’t got anything else, and I really like cats. I love how cute they are, when a bird flies over head and the stand up on their hind legs. They’d snatch it out of the air, given the chance. Don’t have to be hungry, just like to grab things, like to play, not their fault they play a bit rough, as a species. Give me the cat, I’ll look after it. I love cats. They’re marvelous hunters. Quick, quiet. Smart. Too smart to be trained, and that makes them better than dogs. Some people say they’re too smart for their own good, cats. Too smart. Doesn’t take much to make them happy, no, a bit of string and they’re occupied for hours, or a mouse, if they can get one, to bat around till it’s bloody. Please let me have the cat, mister, I really like them. I know you know what I am. But I’ve only got a dollar. A dollar and some pennies in my pocket. It’s not even my dollar, I found it, got the dollar out of the trash. Somebody threw a purse away, ugly thing, with tassels and straps. People say I have bad taste. Inside was this dollar someone left behind. I thought I’d get myself a dinner roll or a cheese stick or something, but then you came along. I’ve got a weakness for cats. Come on, I’ll trade you. A buck doesn’t go very far, but a cat won’t get you much anymore, either. Go on, take it. A quarter a leg, the head for free. Come on, I really want that cat. Look at it, it likes me. Come on. Wait, no, wait. I’ve got, lessee, about one sixteen. One eighteen, there’s two more pennies. I don’t have any more. Come on man. I’d do it for you. Yes, I bloody well would! All right then, half a cat. Come on, half. Half. OK, fine. One of the front and one of the rear legs. Fine, both front. Fuck you, too.
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