Kitty Fluffy Thanksgiving Plate

Kitty Fluffy and her Thanksgiving plate Invited us to dine, yelling “Don’t be late!” Kitty was welcoming, her plate was absurd. We are having a twenty pound turkey, a hideous bird! That plate is annoying said my cousin Tom. But funny, I added, what planet do you live on? My first talking plate, he said. I find it crass. Take a valium said I. It will polish your brass. Kitty Fluffy served the best eats on Thanksgivings Day. We ate until we were stuffed silly, in a marvelous way. She served salmon, spinach, squash, spiced pumpkin bread too. We had cleaned that plate sixteen times before we were through. The plate was grateful; I guess each lick gets him off. He said we’ll all be napping in a bit; and Tom gave out a scoff. Kitty Fluffy’s glorious green eyes rolled back in her head. For a couple of seconds I thought that meowing fat cat was dead. Not dead, just comatose, said a wee voice from the salt shaker. I leaned my ear down there, as Tom became a grabbing salt taker. A talking salt shaker! He hissed in my left ear. I think this is amazing, clever, unique, and quite dear. I knew he was a kleptomaniac and wished I had not brought him to Kitty’s. He was a bit inebriated too, and sang a weird song about women’s titties. Kitty Fluffy awakened and accused us both of being wicked and bad. I gave her salt shaker back, but toward Tom I was now really mad.