Cat In A White Tie And Tails

Chapter 29

Bye-Bye Windy Kitty

At last.

We are back in the hot, dry, lizard-loving arms of McCarran Airport. No more O’Hare, or undignified inspections.

So there I am, no longer wearing leopard pattern, but wrapped up in a black-and-white and flamingo pink carrier customized by Miss Krys Zabinski for maximum embarrassment.

Personal expression is valued these days, and she does plenty of it. In fact, I am planning my own page on Facebook and expect to “tweet” my close encounters with various tweety birds early in my career, including those from that pink plastic flamingo case in my past.

But.

I do not need to be passing through major airports looking like a sissy on steroids. In fact, I am longing for the sudden-death high of a good kidnapping, though I can assure you that no thug worth his brass knuckles would lay so much as a pinkie finger on my current carrier.

“Oh, that old-style newspaper theme on your pet carrier is so fun,” strange ladies coo at me. When I say “strange,” I mean we are not formally introduced, not that they are loopy, although they very well may be.

“I bet the ‘Extra, Extra’ headline on the front means your cat is extra loving. Give us a smooch, big boy.”

“It’s actually for being ‘Extra’ heavy,” my Miss Temple (sellout!) says sweetly.

“Oh, you poor thing. You need a Chihuahua. They are light and sooo cute.”

My Miss Temple needs a Chihuahua like Ma Barker needs a Yorkie canapé.

Mr. Matt, meanwhile, handles all the luggage while looking like a brute for “letting” her cart massive me around.

I tell you, this celebrityhood is a bum rap. Everyone is so ready to be judgmental. Like I am a burden and Miss Temple is a silly lightweight and Mr. Matt is a spoiled media darling.

When it comes to spoiled media darlings around here, that will be me, the once and future king of cat food spokespersonery.

All in all, though, I am pleased with our jaunt to Chicago.

My media value was enhanced by a couple dramatic kidnappings.

I was able to get in a high-power workout while on vacation and meet a new lot of street buddies and future sources, should I elect to move my base of operations to the Windy City. Perhaps I could relocate the junior partner north instead. Miss Midnight Louise might establish an outpost for Midnight Investigations, Inc. I have not done too badly here on an extended weekend visit.

I helped uncover dastardly lingering plots from years ago that are still alive and ticking, or kicking.

Also, I have learned valuable lessons on making it through security.

Now that we are home I will get back to pursuing evil weevils like the Viper and the Weasel all the live-long day. And night.

Evil Weevils is what I privately call the bad guys and girls, both of which I am hoping to foil and eradicate like bugs on the beautiful neon desert lily that is my native town of Las Vegas.

Now that I have taken down a couple of Chicago hoods I am ready for a no-holds-barred campaign against these Synth characters who have been messing up my compadres’ lives since day one.

Life would be dull without vile forces to battle, be they fleas or felons, however.