All is quiet.
A brisk ratatattat on the door rouses Thumbs, who stumbles from her hammock to peer through the spyhole.
"Pickup for Her Grace."
"Pickup for Her Grace and Sleekness the Duchess of Yowl."
Thumbs opens the door to find a uniformed man with a rolling trolley like those used by hotel bellmen. His name patch reads "Picu Andropov."
"What are you picking up?"
He consults a work order.
"Two steamer trunks, misc. cans of tuna, and an aquarium."
Thumbs is befuddled, so she simply opens the door and stands aside.
Clunking and huffing ensues. Water splashing. Muffled curses.
Soon Picu returns pushing the cart, now laden with two steamer trunks, a tuna-scented Saks shopping
bag, and an aquarium full of fish looking seasick as their watery home is now suitable for surfing.
"I left a copy of the work order on your dining room table."
Picu clanks and splashes all the way to the elevator.
Thumbs checks the work order.
Sure enough, two steamer trunks, cans of tuna and an aquarium. Pickup address
Chez Yowl, but the destination ....is blank?
What the dogfearing heck is this?
A note at the bottom:
I have gone on ahead to my next life.
I took the tuna. I left the cannoli.
|Her Grace, Katy, the Duchess of Yowl|
I knew she could not live forever,
I hoped I would be wrong.