Paws for Reflection: Part II

In the last 5 years, the desperado had grown to love the cat. La Palomillo had left town 5 months prior, but this was an event that she simply could not miss.

The desperado made the cat wave a fuzzy paw at the unaging Spanish princess. "Hola, la Palomilla," he chimed. "Have you decided on a name for your cat?" la Palomilla asked. The desperado watched the cat lick its behind. "I was never given a name & so shall it be with my cat."

The cat grimaced and looked up at his captor. “My NAME is Howard, sir.” The princess smiled and nodded. “So good to see you again after all these years, Howard.”

"Would you like a cup of tea?" the princess continued. Puzzled, Howard stared at her, perplexed. "Could I get a bowl of milk instead? Also, be a dear and stir some Nesquik in there too," he replied, unsure of whether or not there were any ulterior motives behind her inquiry.

“Anything else?” Howard put on his best accent. “And while you’re at it, make sure you get me a bot- a bottle- a bo’oh’o’wa’er.” According to historical lore, the British made their “t”s silent after that one fateful incident where a few Americans dumped British tea in the ocean.

“A what of what, now?” the waiter said patiently. The jig was up. I wasn’t gonna pass for a local, no matter how hard I try. In response, I put on my best Texas drawl, and said “I reckon I’ve have uh bottle of water, son.” I think he understood me this time.