Boo: Where were you half the night?
Yeti: The Missus took me to the gallery.
Boo: What for?
Yeti: Apparently, I’m art.
Boo: [Laughing]
Yeti: [Indignantly] What? I can be art.
Boo: [Falling over still laughing]
Yeti: She put me on a pedestal for heaven’s sake.
Boo: [Sobering] Well, what makes that any different than at home?
Yeti: You don’t have to be jealous. It was most annoying. There were dogs there.
Boo: [Suddenly serious] Ooh. That’s not good.
Yeti: I was simply NOT in the mood. They smelled bad.
Boo: How many were there?
Yeti: Three.
Boo: So it smelled three times worse.
Yeti: That’s the truth.
Boo: So, you were on display…and nobody bought you? [Grins]
Yeti: She put an NFS sign by me I guess.
Boo: “Notice…Feline…Sitting”?
Yeti: “Not For Sale”!!!
Boo: Oh. Then what’s the point?
Yeti: So the other humans could ooh and ah at me too. Her type seem to like doing that. I admit that I did ask for it, winding around her legs till she took me with her. Surprisingly, I got mauled less there than I do here at home. She let me sleep most of the time, on top of her sweater.
Boo: See? You’re on a pedestal indeed! She never lets me sleep on her clothes.
Yeti: She doesn’t have to let you. You do it anyway. She just wanted me comfy. That was kind of nice.
Boo: And the dogs?
Yeti: She wouldn’t let them near me. Others also in charge there protected my space as well, except, of course, from the humans, themselves included.
Boo: Sounds kinda nice.
Yeti: It was…different. I learned things.
Boo: Think you’ll do it again?
Yeti: Maybe. Sometimes you have to shake things up. I like a good party.
Boo: I’d never know it. You’re so anti-social.
Yeti: Not throwing myself at people isn’t anti-social. I’m pretty comfortable with people around me. They’re always very flattering, even if they do make absurd noises at me. And there were so many there! Not all at once, but lots at a time, in and out, and then more.
Boo: Like, how many?
Yeti: Maybe, like the number of noms in the big food bag.
Boo: [Eyes growing large with sparkles] Ooh, noms…lots of noms…hungry….
Yeti: Focus here.
Boo: Sorry. [Shaking head] I can’t imagine that many people.
Yeti: I couldn’t have either, had I not seen them myself. So many sizes and shapes.
Boo: Sounds like the place was lousy with them. Why were they there?
Yeti: Mostly to look at the art.
Boo: And that’s what The Missus makes with her colors?
Yeti: Yes! And I saw some of the ones there that used to be here – the ones that went missing – they’re in the gallery.
Boo: So that’s where they go! Wait…you said “some” of them.
Yeti: Yes; that’s because a couple were missing even from there.
Boo: Do you think someone took them?
Yeti: People do that there, but they give little pieces of paper or wave plastic in return.
Boo: That doesn’t sound like an even trade. Those color things are really big.
Yeti: Seems to make them happy, though.
Boo: Well, if they’re happy…we get fed.
Yeti: I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.
Boo: Maybe we should help her make more of the color squares, er, art.
Yeti: She was babbling at me about that. Apparently they make colors for cats.
Boo: Really? Why doesn’t she let us use them?
Yeti: I don’t think she has the cat kind yet. The people sorts are bad, for us at least.
Boo: Ooh, I hope she gets us our own colors. That sounds fun!
Yeti: Me too, but some of them look a lot the same…she calls them “paint”, and the squares are named “canvases” and “paintings” and “art” too. So many names for the same thing; humans are silly wasteful things. …What would you “paint”, if you could?
Boo: Noms, of course. Then I’d lick ’em off the squares.
Yeti: You mean off the canvas – but…how very predictable of you.
Boo: Well, what would you paint?
Yeti: I couldn’t say. I always thought myself more of a deconstructivist found-object assemblage manipulation performance sculptor.
Boo: Huh?
Yeti: I staple the edges of box flaps with my fangs. A plant pulp perforator, if you will.
Boo: Ha ha, and you get stuck!
Yeti: It always makes the audience smile when my teeth squeak into the cardboard.
Boo: [Shaking her head] You’re not really so prim and proper.
Yeti: Nothing says art has to be so serious. One should enjoy what one does. I do.
Boo: I see. So what kind of artist do you think I should be?
Yeti: You? [pauses to think a bit] …Hmm. Ah! A culinary artist.
Boo: What’s that?
Yeti: Your dream job: you get to work in noms.
Boo: [Eyes growing large with sparkles] Ooh, noms…lots of noms….
To see the “pretty flat boxy thingies with colors”, go to: eileegeorge.com