Flora: Time to meet, comrades. Gather ‘round.
Rover: Here! Here! Me on time, see me punctuate!
Flora: Calm down. And it’s “punctual.” Where is Mittens?
Rover: Yoo hoo!! Little Mitts?! You-you gonna be late!
Mittens [sauntering in]: Apologies, oh bright one. Some of us spend time cleaning ourselves.
Flora: Alright, all present. Let’s get to it: The Missus is back from her business trip, so, fortunately, I’ve now been watered and can conduct this.
Mittens: Yeah, you sounded a bit drunk last week…ironic.
Rover: Hahaha, drunk. I got drunk once!
M: You mean you acted sober once.
R: No, remember that time when beers was left on the table and—
F: Ignore her, Rover. Mittens: we are equals here. Act nice.
M: Of course, Your Plantness. But “equals,” really?
F: You want me to hold back oxygen, hotshot?
R: What’s oxygen?
M: What your brain didn’t get enough of at birth, Rover.
R: You saw me being borned? Cool!
F: No, she didn’t, Rover. You are older than Mittens. And Mittens, enough, really. Mittens…Mittens?
R: Haha funny! Little Mitts already napping!
F: Lick her, Rover.
M [waking]: Gross! Stop that!
F: Just getting you back to the business of the meeting.
R: Hi-hello-hi Little Mitts! You is awake now!
F: My main item of concern this week is that winter is coming. So, just a few reminders. Mittens: Don’t defecate inside—use the pet door to go outside like Rover.
R: Yeah, yeah, snow coming! Go in the snow! I just had a good one!
F: And Rover: You push open the person-door sometimes instead of using your door—
R: I learned that myself! Mittens can’t even do that. Want me to teach you, Little Mitts?
M: No, Rover. And it’s not about skills, it’s about physics, fatso.
F: You know Schrödinger’s equation, then, Mittens?
M: No. Because there’s no point in it.
F: Right. Well, when you get boned up on your quantum mechanics, then you can lecture us all. In the meantime, Rover: It’s commendable that you can open the back door, but you haven’t learned to close it, correct?
R: Uh, no. Guess not, Flora.
F: So, what I’m saying is that in winter, when you do that, it gets cold inside.
M: Then curl up in a blanket, O Leafy One.
F: Very funny, Mittens.
R: Was that funny? I missed it. I like jokes!
F: So, Rover, you understand not to push open the back door this winter?
R: Yes, Ma’am.
F: And Mittens, you won’t “go” inside, right?
M: Depends on the food. I’ve been given different product and it doesn’t agree with me.
F: Inflation and supply chain issues, Mittens. Be happy you’re still getting something better than off-brand. I haven’t been fertilized for months.
M: I’m happy to do that for you.
F: Don’t you ever!
M: I’d rather not actually…wouldn’t want you to comment about my butt.
R: Ha, you said butt!
F: Yes, speaking of that: considering you don’t like the food, Mittens, you sure aren’t holding back.
M: What can I say, I eat like the Queen that I am.
F: Then stop giving me snarky royal titles such as “Your Plantness.”
M: Sure, Greenie.
F: At least I don’t shed.
R: Or cough up hairballs!
F: Good one, Rover!
R: Thanks!…Uh sorry Little Mitts: that was mean.
M: Apology accepted, Rover. I won’t mention your breath.
R: What about my breath?
F: It’s fine, Rover. Smells better than Mitten’s indoor piles.
M: I doubt it.
F: Alright, well, that’s all for this week. Other than that, I should tell you that both Mister and Missus decided it’s cute when either of you drink out of the toilet, so despite my input, I am to inform you that you may keep doing that—even though your water bowls are the much more refined option.
M: I never drink out of the toilet.
F: Right. Sure, Mittens.
R: I always do!
F: Yes. And you may keep doing that, Rover. Glad you are well-hydrated…. I hear a police siren so I suppose this meeting will have to be adjourned. We’re done anyway.
R: Owoooo! Owoooo!
M: Sheesh, Rover! [pause] Zzzzz.
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