Downtown Diary

[this is satire]

by Rocky the Diabolical Cat™

“I can’t believe I’m actually moving to Canada!” I exclaimed as Diana the beautiful philosopher and I sped up the highway in her black-on-black Chevrolet Corvair with a trailer attached to the back. “And despite all of the pictures you sent me, I never realized how much you look like the young Barbara Stanwyck.

You’re the Barbara Stanwyck of the tundra, dearest,” I said, holding her hand in my paw and kissing it.

“And you, Rocky, you are so divine, I will have to beat all of the other Canadian ladies off with a hockey stick just to keep you all to myself,” she cooed, and rubbed my furry chin with her index finger.

“How far are we from freedom, er, I mean, Canada?” I asked.

“Oh, not far. We’re almost to Detroit, my divine pet,” she answered. “Thank goodness I got the convertible top on this car replaced — it is so cold out today!”

“And snowy!” I added. “By the way, do you think I’ll have trouble getting a job in Canada?”

“A job? Rocky, your only ‘job’ will be as my personal love slave,” she replied.

My cell phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Rocky! It’s me, J! I’m coming with you! I’m in the trailer! Right behind you in the trailer! I wanted to wait a while before I called, just to surprise you! Cool, huh?” he blurted in his usual idiotic fashion.

I hung up, and turned the ringer off. “Darling,” I asked Diana, “could you please pull over on the shoulder for a sec?”

After we came to a stop I got out and unhooked the trailer from the car.

I got back in the car and we sped away.

"Why did you do that?" Diana inquired.

"Oh, let's just say I don't want old baggage to ruin my new life," I said with a wink.