CONCHED OUT

A friend of mommy's is going to Key West this week. She wishes it was her.

And so do I!

I see me in a big, big house, so big I might never cross paths with Casey again. It has old, wood floors, water views and wraparound verandas where we can all laze in the island heat as a fan whirs sleepily above, whisking little beads of sweats off our noses.

There'd be a swing or two, of course. And dainty tables for resting cool drinks and good books. It'd be our very own Hemingway house! That's where I got the idea. Mom took this picture of his house from the top of the Key West Lighthouse Museum.

My folks love Key West and say it's very cat-friendly.

They're everywhere.


(And, if this fella is any indication, they're very used to strangers stepping over them.)



As are, oddly enough, chickens.

Anyway, I could sneak away from mom and slip in, say, to the Hemingway house, get shown around,

you know, blend in.

Oh, who am I kidding? What with these delicate feet.

I'd be spotted as an intruder immediately.






(Compare with Casey's huge cloppers. He'd fit right in with those six-toed freaks!)

Still, a kitty can dream. ....