Initiate Tabby Cloning Sequence in 3 . . 2 . . 1

In which our plan to clone the Tabby goes horribly awry . . .

It was a rainy day, one of several in a row, and we were stuck indoors, which is a recipe for trouble. It all started with a hank of fuzz we found in the brush my husband uses to brush the Tabby. And a few spare whiskers we found on the floor. I admit we may have been just a little bit bored. So we decided to clone the Tabby!

But then, oh then . . . guess who got wind of our plans! An ominous shadow, with cat ears. Dexter the Tabby arrived on the scene, and quickly surmised what we were about. A quick chop-slam, and then . . . the ATTACK!

A slap of one of those tidy white Tabby paws, and creatures went flying in every which direction! Crittergators down! Repeat: we've got crittergators down! (Insert blurry photos of red and green bodies, recovered from the camera of a photographer who fled the scene in fear!) Some might have called it a donnybrook; they may have been right.

And suddenly there appeared to be a red shirt missing. Where did it go? We looked all around; we despaired; we looked everywhere. Then - whew! - discovered it, hidden underneath the pile of clone-floof!

A tiny cry went up: "SAUVE QUI PEUT!!!!" (Which is to say, "Every man for himself!" . . . or crittergator, as the case may be . . . )

The Tabby nosed his way through the wreckage. Hmm . . . this little green one over here, does it have a flavor? A sniff, a little lick, hot damp cat breath. A small green individual frozen in fear, playing possum. And succeeding! Away jumped the Tabby!

"I am more than just a hank of fuzz and a few whiskers!" said Dexter the Tabby, as he departed the scene, leaving a trail of devastation in his wake; "THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE TABBY!!!"

The soundtrack: Pat Benatar, My Clone Sleeps Alone.

P.S. No crittergators - or Tabbies - were harmed in the making of this blip!