Orchid Dancer EXCERPT
Sharon reached down and cautiously picked up Laelia and set her on her lap, one arm protectively around the silky body. “You are so lucky,” she said to Cheryl. “My cat is so aloof…though he is affectionate in his own way. I mean, he seems to like being near me. But he’s not very touchy-feely.”
“It’s like, anthropomorphism, my ass,” responded Cheryl. “Anyone who doesn’t think animals can feel and show love is missing either half their heart or half their brain—or both.”
Laelia settled contentedly across Sharon’s thighs. Sharon stroked the cat’s large ears, noted the extremely narrow face and large bronze-colored eyes, admired the loud purr. “Laelia looks like those Egyptian cats, you know, those sculptures or drawings on the sarcophagi or whatever.”
“Actually, you hit the nail on the head. My vet thinks she must be part Abyssinian, judging from her bone structure. But who knows—she’s from the pound. What’s yours like?”
“My vet or my cat? Or my pound?” asked Sharon.
Cheryl hooted. “Your cat! But you can tell me about your vet, too—is he hot?”
“It’s a she.”
“Oh. Too bad. You should see mine—what an adorable creature he is. Man, if I were twenty years younger…”
“Oh, come on. You’re not that old!”
“Well, this kid must be all of about twenty, I swear. Actually, the last time I was in there, getting Laelia her shots, there was this lady there talking to the vet about her cat’s problems…”
“Yeah?”
“And the vet was explaining, in this totally matter-of-fact voice, what the structure of a cat’s penis was.”
“Why?!” asked Sharon.
“I guess her cat had one of those urinary tract infections or something? At least as far as I could tell from what I overheard.”
“You mean from what you eavesdropped.”
“Exactly.” Cheryl laughed. “Actually, it was just completely unreal—and so embarrassing—to hear this ravishing young man saying the word ‘prepuce.’”
Sharon giggled and hoped Cheryl didn’t notice she was blushing. “I didn’t even know cats had a prepuce.”
“Me neither!” said Cheryl. She lifted up her glass. “To prepuces!” Cheryl toasted, and they both giggled. “Or is that prepuci?”
Sharon reached down and cautiously picked up Laelia and set her on her lap, one arm protectively around the silky body. “You are so lucky,” she said to Cheryl. “My cat is so aloof…though he is affectionate in his own way. I mean, he seems to like being near me. But he’s not very touchy-feely.”
“It’s like, anthropomorphism, my ass,” responded Cheryl. “Anyone who doesn’t think animals can feel and show love is missing either half their heart or half their brain—or both.”
Laelia settled contentedly across Sharon’s thighs. Sharon stroked the cat’s large ears, noted the extremely narrow face and large bronze-colored eyes, admired the loud purr. “Laelia looks like those Egyptian cats, you know, those sculptures or drawings on the sarcophagi or whatever.”
“Actually, you hit the nail on the head. My vet thinks she must be part Abyssinian, judging from her bone structure. But who knows—she’s from the pound. What’s yours like?”
“My vet or my cat? Or my pound?” asked Sharon.
Cheryl hooted. “Your cat! But you can tell me about your vet, too—is he hot?”
“It’s a she.”
“Oh. Too bad. You should see mine—what an adorable creature he is. Man, if I were twenty years younger…”
“Oh, come on. You’re not that old!”
“Well, this kid must be all of about twenty, I swear. Actually, the last time I was in there, getting Laelia her shots, there was this lady there talking to the vet about her cat’s problems…”
“Yeah?”
“And the vet was explaining, in this totally matter-of-fact voice, what the structure of a cat’s penis was.”
“Why?!” asked Sharon.
“I guess her cat had one of those urinary tract infections or something? At least as far as I could tell from what I overheard.”
“You mean from what you eavesdropped.”
“Exactly.” Cheryl laughed. “Actually, it was just completely unreal—and so embarrassing—to hear this ravishing young man saying the word ‘prepuce.’”
Sharon giggled and hoped Cheryl didn’t notice she was blushing. “I didn’t even know cats had a prepuce.”
“Me neither!” said Cheryl. She lifted up her glass. “To prepuces!” Cheryl toasted, and they both giggled. “Or is that prepuci?”