Thursday, 3 January 2013

And so it continues...

Annie-Jean excitedly ran to help him offload all the yummy food while Sally-Theresa hugged him tight. "This is the best Catmas ever!" she said. Clawde subtly got off her embrace and started setting the Catmas tree. It was already decorated, which would save them a lot of time.

"Mind you, the Angel must´ve fallen off the top on the way here" said Clawde

"Not a problem, I can fix that!"Annie-Jean
said, going into the kitchen. She came back with the Rat Roast and a napkin. She cleaned the rat the best she could, climbed on top of a chair and stuck it on top of the tree. "Merry Catmas, Clawde! Merry Catmas, Sally Theresa"

"Merry Catmas, Annie-Jean," Clawde said. "I hope mew girls don´t mind but I invited my brother Arfur and his new furriend Furrnella to spend the day with us. Is that okay?"
Annie-Jean was glowing and leaned against him purring. Sally-Theresa at first frowned, then seemed to get a new idea and purred. "Why, that would be lovely."

When Arfur and Furrnella arrived, Sally-Theresa was extravagant in her praise of Furrnella´s handmade outfit and the chocolate mouse she brought for dessert. She sat between Arfur and Furrnella and said in a low voice, "Annie-Jean tells me your brother is very, very rich and I can see he´s crazy about her."

"Our father, Wee Jock McTartan is rich. We are just starting out in the business world," Arfur told her.
"Is that so? Annie-Jean´s last five fiances were just starting out too but none of them got rich enough fast enough for her. Mew know, I´m surprised she fell for Clawde so fast because she doesn´t really like black cats--especially not long haired ones since they shed on her own purritty silvery fur. I hope she doesn´t break your brother´s heart TOO fast. He seems so nice." Said Sally Theresa cattily, because after all, she was a cat.
Oblivious to the catty coments, Annie-Jean and Clawde were having a wonderful time together and Annie-Jean was still smiling when the door shut behind her guests.
"Clawde and I are getting married tomorrow, Sally Theresa. Mew must be my maid of honor."
"Oh, I don´t think so, Annie-Jean. Clawde´s brother told me he is a very good actor but a notorious playboy. He´s only stringing mew along until mew mate with him, then he´ll divorce mew. They have an older brother who has a divorce chapel even and he has got rid of all ten of Clawde´s previous brides."
Annie-Jean (of the past) burst into tears and ran into her room and locked the door while she packed for London. She took the night train and ran away to sell matchbooks on the street--no matches, just the books. That meal was the last warmth or food she was to know until after the new year, when Mogue magazine hired her for the mail room and let her sleep under the table. In time she became Anna Winpurr as it sounded so much more sophisticated.

The next day Clawde, Arfur and Furrnella are waiting happily at the altar, Wee Jock beaming paternally at the thought of seeing his handsome son wed on Catmas day. There was a knock at the chapel door and Sally Theresa was blown in with a gust of freezing snow. She appurred very, very distressed, "Ooooh, Clawdey, I am so sorry to tell mew this. I was afurraid of it and tried to warn your brother and his beautiful furriend but I fear Annie-Jean has done mew like she did all of her other fiances and has jilted mew and left mew at the altar."
Before Clawde can say anything, so shocked and speechless was he that he began mewling into his designer tartan hanky, Wee Jock put a paw around Sally-Theresa´s shoulders.
"What a bonnie wee kitten mew are, my dear, and how good of mew it is to bring us the news. What say we go out for a bit of Catmas haggis and some eccles cakes and talk about mew and me, eh?"
"Oh, mew must be the handsome pater familiar--oooh, that is SO familiar, Laird Wee Jock!" she said as he pinched her tail. "My name is actually Solange and that Annie-Jean is truly no relation. She´s just my roommate. I am a much, much nicer and more principled cat than she is."
"And when are mew coming into see us again, dearie?" wee Jock asked licking her nose.
Giggling and letching, they left the chapel while poor Clawde sobbed into his designer hanky and Furrnella and Arfur tried to comfort him.
Furrnella didn’t quite buy Solange’s story.
"There´s something about that cat I plan to detest," she told Arfur.

Anna Winpurr pinched the bridge of her purrity nose to hold back the tears. All these years she had thought Clawde was a womanizing piece of fur. She was devastated, thinking about how different her life would´ve been if she hadn´t listened to Sally-Theresa. That witch!

Minerva could see the train of thoughts developing in Anna´s head just by looking in her eyes. She gave her a hug, but Anna squirmed,
"What are mew doing?! Get your paws off of me! And don´t condescend me! Anna Winpurr does NOT need pity! Never did! Never will!" she yelled as her voiced cracked and tears started flowing. Minerva held her tighter and let her cry.


Clawde, Arfur and Furrnella felt themselves lifted by the scruffs of their necks in ghostly paws and plonked back to the castle.

Clawdette watching in her drainpipe jeans and unifursity sweatshirt began to sob.´Oooooh how sad!´. But secretly she was relieved because she never would have met and married Clawde if Anna hadn´t been fooled and foiled like this.

She felt herself being picked up and put back in her basket, having attempted to join the flashback.

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