Taking the Show on the Road

"Arnold, you are not a slave."

"I don't get paid, do I?" answered Arnold The Angora.

Arnold is a twelve-year-old house cat talking to a sparrow out under the bird feeder.

"No, you don't get paid, but you don’t work, either."

This was said by Johnny Sparrow. Arnold had heard that sparrows knew a lot. That's why he's running his concerns past Johnny.

Sparrows can perch on a fence right outside a human's window and listen to them for hours. They won't be suddenly frightened away by a screech of "Oh, look, Veronica, there's a sparrow!"

No, sparrows are practically invisible.

Arnold knew if he paid a little more attention to what the people he lived with talked about he could be as informed as the sparrows. But mostly what he heard from them, other than the sound of the can opener, was "blah, blah, blah."

"The dog doesn't get paid, and he's not a slave…." started Johnny. "Oh, wait. Maybe he is. Dogs are really into that 'master' stuff, aren't they."

"Hey, don't even try to make dogs a part of this discussion," said Arnold. "What I'm saying is that I don't think I'm getting a fair shake here. I can see you don't agree, but thanks for listening."

Then, with a lightning quick paw, Arnold scooped Johnny into his mouth.

"And thanks for buying, I mean, thanks for being lunch."

Arnold sauntered over to the cement slab by the patio doors. The sun had warmed it nicely and it was time for a nap.

"Being lunch," he chuckled, spitting out feathers. "Sometimes I slay me. Hey, maybe I can find a family who would appreciate a stand-up comedian. A family who would pay a decent wage to their stand-up comedian. That's it; after I finish my nap, I'm outta here. No more of this room and board shtick for me. And I no longer answer to Fluffy; Arnold The Angora's the name and comedy's the game. Move over, Lenny Bruce!"

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