City Katt was from the Catinent, so of course she was very clawsmopolitan.
Country Catt lived in a little meown in Connect-a-cat.
City Katt loved fine furd, so she dined only in the best restpurraunts. Her favorite furd was catviar.
Country Catt ate home-cooked meowls.
City Katt owned a fancy Catillac, but her favorite meowd of transpurrtation was a dog-drawn cattiage.
Country Catt usually drove a lick-up truck, but it broke down a lot, so then she rolled in a cart driven by a cowt.
One spay, City Katt received a telegraham cracker. “Eow, hiss from that old bitty, Aunt Moana,” she sniffed.
But it was good mews. “There’s been a Kattastrophe,” it said. “Your Uncle Clawd Katt’s last life has flead. He was chasing a mewse, and it stomped on him. Hiss gone to the Sofa in the Sky. I only have one life left. You and your cruisin Tom are my last living relaticks, so I’m leaping my city plates to him and my country plates to you.”
City Katt wasn’t sorry about Clawd Katt. He was always a sourpuss. She didn’t mind that Tom got the city plates. His band, the Screeches, was always getting groaned out of apurrtments because of their meowd mewsic. In his own plates he could meowproof the wails.
City Katt didn’t mind Tom’s mewsic, beclaws she thought it was oritchinal. “He’s no copycat,” she told all her aristocatic friends.
Only one squeak later, a litter came by Feral Express. It was from the Courtmouse of Kitty Kounty. Kitty Kounty was where Country Catt lived, and also where Aunt Moana’s country plates was. In fact, Aunt Moana’s plates was the propurrty right next to Country Catt’s furmouse.
“This is to infurm you,” it said, “that your Aunt, Moana Katt, has shed hair ninth life, and is now resting comfurtably on the Sofa in the Sky. To you she has left her entire country propurrty, the deed to which is enclawsed. She lost her last life by being stepped on by a mewse.”
Again, this matted hair about the mewse!
“Eeow,” said City Katt, in her sophistikatted catscent. “I have a purrblem mewse at my new country plates. This mewse is dangerhiss and mewsed be stopped before he stomps again!”
Meanwhine, Country Catt was living blissfurry ignorant that a dangerhiss mewse was loose. Befur long there came a scratch at her doze.
“Who hiss it?” asked Country Catt.
“Hiss your mew next-purr neighbor,” said City Katt. Country Catt opened the door and her ears stood up. There stood the most smellegant cat she’d ever stared at. City Katt was so whine she hissened in the sun. Around her neck was a collie studded with purrs.
Quickly, City Katt told Country Catt about the purrblem with the dangerhiss mewse.
“I read about your relaticks in the papurr,” said Country Catt. “You have my condolicenses. I’ve never seen thiss mewse.”
“We have to stop him before he stomps again,” inhissted City Katt.
“Maybe it was a catcident. I think we should talk to him before doing anything ratstic.”
“And get stomped on? I only have fur lives left and I need them all!”
“Now don’t be a scaredy-catt. We have to deal with hiss in a civilived way. If you want, I’ll try to find the mewse and talk to him.”
“You’re taking a big chance. I do plan to enjoy my country plates. If you can’t stop hiss mewse, hiss hisstory.”
After getting City Katt’s purrmewssion to look for it, Country Catt set out that very afternap to find the mewse.
City Katt’s plates was big, but so was a mewse. “I’ll find him if he’s hair,” said Country Catt to purrself—and she did.
The mewse was grazing on some foliitch. He took no notice of Country Catt, even when she sat down in furnt of him.
“Exmewse me,” said Country Catt.
“Who hiss it?” said the mewse. “Who’s hair?”
Before Country Catt could identifur herself, the mewse lowered his head and took several steps furward.
“This is defurnitely the right mewse,” thought Country Catt. “He almewst stomped on me.”
“Be carefur!” she yowled. “Cat you see me?”
“Unfurtunately, no,” said the mewse. “My eyes are gone.”
“Hiss that why you’re wearing dark catsips?” asked Country Catt.
“Purrcisely,” said the mewse. “I’m completely blond.”
“Now I understand,” said Country Catt. “I’m sorry you cat see.”
“That’s ospay,” said the mewse. “I’m mewsed to it.”
Country Catt said goodbye and went to City Katt’s new furmouse, where City Katt was waiting for her repurrn.
“The mewse is totally blond,” said Country Catt. “When you try to intromewse yourself, he charges furst and talks litter.”
“I’m not mewsed to this sort of thing,” said City Katt. “What should I doo?”
“The answer is simpurr,” said Country Catt. “If you mewst talk to the mewse, appurrch him from hiss tail end.”
“Cat mates sense,” said City Katt. “I really appurrciate the advice.”
Country Catt scratched herself behind the ear.
To show her appurrciation, City Katt made Country Catt a lovely cup of pee.