Free The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers by Lilian Jackson Braun Page A

eleven P . M ., knowing that Polly would be distracted with last-minute considerations of all kinds. She had not yet told him when she was leaving, and he stubbornly refused to ask. He said not a word about his Theater of the Absurd project (she had always despised that kind of play) or the Librarians Who Lunch.
    Polly told him, “Wetherby Goode will take Brutus and Catta to the Pet Plaza and visit them twice a week. Isn’t that thoughtful of him? Dr. Connie will water my plants and take in my mail. We have such wonderful neighbors at the Willows.” (Qwilleran had no comment.)
    She said, “There’s a five-hour difference in time between Paris and Pickax, dear, so we’ll have to forgo our late-night chats.”
    â€œI’ll give you a pocket recorder to take along, and you can dictate a running account of your adventures to bring home.”
    He told her, “If any problems arise in Paris, don’t hesitate to contact me collect—at any hour of the day or night, regardless of time differential.”
    When his parting gifts were delivered (blue gabardine for her, khaki gabardine for Shirley), the two women were overwhelmed. It was not until they had left for the Lockmaster airport in Shirley’s son’s limousine that Qwilleran felt at ease again, and not even lonely! After all, he had Koko and Yum Yum for companions, two columns a week to write for the newspaper. He was committed to deadline on Homer Tibbitt’s biography. He was working on his program for the Senior Health Club, to be given at the community hall since the redesigned building was far from complete. Also, the Literary Club’s visiting lecturer on Proust was scheduled to be his overnight guest at the barn. (He was said to be an ailurophile, so Koko’s aerial demonstrations would be amusing, not threatening.) Plus, to write a play in the absurdist style. All this…and Polly would be gone only two weeks!
    Later that evening Qwilleran called Kip MacDiarmid at home. “Were you serious about my writing an absurdist play?”
    â€œI think it would be a hoot,” Kip replied.
    â€œWould you use the title I suggested?” Qwilleran asked.
    â€œWhy not? When can you do it?” Kip asked.
    â€œI’ve just done it; it took half an hour. I’ll send it to your office by motorcycle messenger in the morning.”
    THE CAT WHO GOT
ELECTED DOGCATCHER
    A Play in One Act by Jim Qwilleran
    CAST
    Man with dog on leash
    Woman with cat in arms
    Street sweeper with broom
    SCENE
    A park with trees painted on background…park bench in bright green, center front…Trash barrel overflowing in rear.
    WOMAN (to cat in arms): Stop complaining, Jerome! If I put you down in the wet grass, you’ll only want to be picked up again.
    Â 
    Enter MAN (with dog tugging on leash) : No, Eugene, it’s against the law. (Sees woman.) Oh, hi! Hi!
    Â 
    WOMAN: Hi!
    Â 
    MAN: Is that Jerome? I thought he skipped town after the…incident.
    Â 
    WOMAN: He came back.
    Â 
    MAN: Does he have any means of support?
    Â 
    WOMAN: His constituents are raising a slush fund.
    Â 
    MAN: Is that what he eats?
    Â 
    WOMAN: He’ll eat anything.
    Â 
    MAN: He looks as if he eats better than I do.
    Â 
    WOMAN: Do you have time to sit down?
    Â 
    MAN: They just painted the benches.
    Â 
    WOMAN: That was last week.
    Â 
    They both sit…and look surprised.
    Â 
    WOMAN: Oh, well, I wasn’t going anywhere. How about you?
    Â 
    MAN: I had an appointment at the traffic court.
    Â 
    CAT: Yeowwww!
    Â 
    WOMAN: You’re sitting on his tail.
    Â 
    MAN: Has the candidate ever held office?
    Â 
    WOMAN: Only as rat catcher.
    Â 
    MAN: Why did he quit?
    Â 
    WOMAN: No reason.
    Â 
    MAN: What makes you think he could catch dogs?
    Â 
    CAT: Yeowwww!
    Â 
    WOMAN: See? He’s quite confident.
    Â 
    MAN: I’m still sitting on his tail!
    Â 
    WOMAN: Jerome! The gentleman has offered to be your