Do Not Give Missy Mob Salami

He is a bit unusual, you will have to eat outside, my pet. I was warned, but still, did not understand quite yet. It was a blind date, and he came wearing a Russian hat. But wait, it was not a Russian hat at all, it was a huge cat. You must be Shirley, he said. He had a lovely sweet smile. I am glad to meet you. May I sit down for a while? We had a lovely conversation about the weather and my job. He introduced me to his Cat her name was Missy Mob. Missy Mob hissed at me a couple of times after my food came late. Don’t mind her, he told me, she is angry she does not have a plate. I offered to give her a bite of salmon, but he said an emphatic no. She will get feisty on my head, and then I will have to go. At the end of the date we each pretended we would meet again. I knew I’d rather jump off a cliff into a wild starving wolf’s pen. I imagine he also knew this would be the last time we would say “hi”. I have to admit I could not wait to tell this weirdo a strong good-bye.