Buddy sits on his favorite nosey neighbor perch watching the flashes of light and listening to the rumbling thunder. Cotton watches from the desk, then abruptly asks, “Buddy, what are you doing sitting in front of a window during an electrical storm? You know that isn’t safe.”
Buddy continues to stare through the glass. “I’m keeping an eye on Jan’s car. Wouldn’t want anyone to steal it, you know.”
Cotton shakes her head. “No one in their right mind would steal that old car. Oh, wait. You and your cohorts in crime already did, didn’t you?”
She grins at the memory of the group – Buddy, Percy, Rusty, Merci, Samaritan and Cameron – tiptoeing back into the house after their recent front lawn adventure. “By the way,” she continues, “you never have told the rest of us what happened that night. All we know is there was a commotion outside, you returned with Rusty and Cameron limping, and Jan had hysterics the next morning when she found her car parked in the bushes. We know you were responsible but we can’t figure out how you did it. We were betting you wouldn’t even get the car started.”
“Well, we did,” Rusty says, as he leaps onto a window seat, “and that’s more than you need to know. Loose lips and all that --”
Cotton sighs. It’s hard to be the only sane resident at the Funny Farm.
Posted by Cotton