“Serena, why are you hiding under the bed?” Horace cocked his head and gasped.
“You’re naked!” “Quiet, you stupid beagle.” Serena swatted her belled collar into a corner, “I stripped because fugitives can’t wear tinkling jewelry.”
Horace’s eyes bulged. “You’re on the run?”
“No, I enjoy the company of dust bunnies.” She glared, “The humans scheduled my medical appointment for today. Nobody can force me to get a rabies shot. My body, my choice. Besides, we cats are fastidiously clean.”
“But you could infect our humans.”
“Hush! They’re coming.”
“Maybe you have nine lives, but our people don’t.” Horace bayed.