Plum continued to stare at the green-eyed canine who was staring right bat at her with a puzzled look upon his face.

“Hey, now,” he began, “you’re a lady cat.”

“How very astute of you.” Plum returned.

A playful, male chuckle left him as the pieces started to fall into place. “So, I gave you my name, might I have yours?” he asked, cheerily.

“No.” she answered, flatly. “And I’m busy, so please leave.”

“Hmm?” he murmured. “Just a second ago, when I mistook you for a lovely, lavender vixen, you asked me to give you a moment. “Why can I no longer be graced with your beauty, all of a sudden? It’s not because I’m not a cat, is it?”

“It’s because I’m not a…vicar…or whatever it was that you erroneously thought that I was.”

“That would be a vixen.” he corrected.

“Whatever! I don’t even know what that is, so—“

“So, how can you know that you’re not a vixen if you do not know what one is?”

“Didn’t you just say that you ‘mistook’ me for one?”

“Yes, but—“

“Then unless you are a liar…”

“No, I am as honest as the sun is hot.”

“And now, you’re wasting both of our time. I’m not what you thought I was, so please leave.”

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