Shaken Not Stirred
by carolynholm
Cher Madame,
Does Madame still refuse to believe that I am French?
Regards,
M. Le Poufin
Dear Puffin,
Puff, honey, you were picked up on the streets of South Central Los Angeles when you were a tiny kitten. I don’t think you got there from France.
Love, Carolyn
Cher Madame,
Alors, still, Madame is quite sure that je suis un DSH Tuxedo, n’est ce pas?
Regards,
M. Le Poufin
Dear Puffin,
Yes.
Love, Carolyn
Cher Madame,
If I am un Tuxedo, that is very élégant, n’est-ce pas?
Regards,
M. Le Poufin
Dear Puffin,
Where are we going with this?
Love, Carolyn
Cher Madame,
I am élégant in my tuxedo, but my dining accommodations they are not.
Regards,
M. Le Poufin
Dear Puffin,
Ahh. The plastic bowl is perhaps tainted with a little too much of a fast food aesthetic?
Love, Carolyn
Cher Madame,
Madame should comprehend, fast food is très bon. The faster you feed me the better. Je suis very fond of my food to be fast. But Madame, I must point out, my dining accommodations, they are deficient. Where is the pretty bowl? Where are the élégant beverages? Le vin, le martini. Comme ça. Mia and I are in complete agreement about this.
Regards,
M. Le Poufin
Dear Puffin,
Oh, that’s what you want. Well sorry, sweetie, you two can forget the wine and martinis. If cats drank wine and martinis you’d be insufferable. Though perhaps not noticeably more than you are already.
Love, Carolyn
Chère Madame,
Ahem . . . I think perhaps to appease M. Puffin you might want to give him his meals in a monogrammed bowl. Might make him forget about the need for a cocktail.