â€śI think I might tell you something about [Pg 43]it,â€ť broke in Tibbie, backing down Bobâ€™s mane and settling on his withers again.
â€śWell, go on,â€ť said Minkie, bending a bit, so as to watch Tibbieâ€™s green eyes.
â€śItâ€™s a long time ago since I had the story from a blue Persian.â€ť
â€śCookie has some liver in the larder.â€ť You see, Minkie knew her cat.
â€śHas she? I was out when the butcher came.â€ť
â€śYes. Itâ€™s liver and bacon for breakfast ë¨ąíŠ€ę˛€ě¦ť
in the morning. And SOLES!â€ť
P-r-r-r, you could feel Tibbieâ€™s fur rising.
â€śIâ€™ll try to remember,â€ť she said in a rather thick voice. â€śIt seems that we cats used to be worshipped by the ancient Egyptians. The cat deity was named Elurus, and we were also venerated as a symbol of the moonâ€”â€ť
I couldnâ€™t help it. Even Bob coughed, and then pretended to be chewing hay. But, because I laughed, Minkie clouted my ear.
â€śThe Romans always placed a cat at the feet of the Goddess of Liberty; they realized that no animal resists the loss of its freedom so furiously as a cat,â€ť continued Tibbie in her [Pg 44]best purr. â€śThat is why you never see a cat wearing a collar, the badge of servitude, like a dog.â€ť
Wow! Iâ€™ll give her â€śservitudeâ€ť next time I have a chance. â€śLike a dog!â€ť indeed.
â€śWhat has all this got to do with a ju-ju?â€ť asked Minkie.