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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