Paws for Reflection

“So, young man, you consider yourself a player. You enjoy toying with ladies’ hearts, do you?” She sighed, then chuckled. “There’s one little thing you didn’t know about your last conquest, though. She’s been walking the earth for 735 years.”

"That's right," she continued, "I am Juana Núñez de Lara, also known as la Palomilla, born in Spain in 1286. On my 13th birthday I drank from the secret Spring of Cadiz, giving me a 1,000 year lifespan. You think you've broken a lot of hearts, guy? Your numbers are child's play."

La Palomilla leapt backward onto an oak table with uncanny agility. She drew a brass handled short sword from a worn scabbard at her hip. His eyes narrowed awaiting her move, a hand on his revolver. “If you’ve come for the spring’s magic, you’ll bathe only in blood,” she quipped.

Without warning he drew and pulled the trigger but the gun only clicked—unbeknownst to the desperado his weapon had been soaked in turkey gravy! La Palomilla lunged forward with her blade, "it's only stuffing for you today! Let us be grateful for that!"

But behind the desperado, something caught La Palomilla’s eye. A small kitten, cowering in fear. She remembered the true spirit of the holidays, and put her sword aside, disgusted with herself.

Instead, she picked up the kitten, gently wrapped her in paper (with air holes, of course) and gave her to the desperado. “Meowwie Christmas,” she said. An unexpected move and a successful one. They ended their feud and became best friends.