George and Cathy

"Come on George," I said, "don't fly off the handle just because Bob put that around your neck."

George was my best friend.  A good sized tabby.  Bob, George's owner, had put a collar with a silly bell on George.

"Easy for you to say, big mouth," George responded.  "I can imagine how Cathy will react.  Probably falling down on the floor laughing."

Cathy was a calico that George was sweet on, but wasn't getting anywhere with.  You never know with the girls though.  She might think the bell was cool.

"Put a good face on it George," I suggested.  "You can say it's 'bling' like the big people use."

"What's 'bling' Fred?" George asked.

"You know, shiny, sparkly stuff," I answered.

"Hmm...  Well, lets go see if it works," George said.

We cut across several back yards headed for where Cathy lived.  Each time we entered a yard, all kinds of squawking came from the birds there.  They carried on like the world was ending.

"Fred, I know those feather dusters are all a little crazy, but they're really going off today," George said.  "I wonder why."

I suspected why, but didn't want to add to George's heavy burden.

We finally got to Cathy's back yard.

"Go ahead George," I told him.  "Faint heart never won fair lady, and all that kind of stuff."

"Are you making fun of me?" George said, giving me one of those woe is you looks.

"Not at all George," I replied.

"OK," he said.  "Here goes."

Cathy was napping.  George sauntered up to her in his best 'look at me, I'm the cat's meow'.

The bling worked.  Cathy paid more attention to George then she had in almost a month.

Now, as long as she doesn't want a bird for her dinner.