Thank You, Thank You Very Much.

Dobby: Okay Mom. I'm here. (Dobby struts into the den). 

Oh my gosh! Dobby, what is that?

Dobby: I'm getting so popular now, I decided to wear a little something I can strut my stuff in. You know for the ladies... (Dobby turns around, modeling his copy of the well known white Elvis jumpsuit complete with jewels and high collar. Thank goodness he couldn't do the hair.)

Really? The white jumpsuit. You had to do the white jumpsuit thing?

Dobby: Yeah. It's classic! Look at what the costume place threw in! (Dobby struts over to a box almost as tall as he is and opens it.) See?

What?

Dobby: A minute please...Big moments like this take time. (Dobby reaches his head in and pulls out a white scarf with his teeth). See?

The scarf too?

Dobby: Yep, this whole box is full of them! That way when I see a pretty girl at my window I can rub my face on the scarf and throw it out to her. She'll catch it, sniff the scarf, swoon, put it around her own neck and never take it off again.

Kitty, you might be putting the cart before the horse just a little bit there. (Dobby looks at me in confusion unable to comprehend my expression.) It means that you are a wonderful, handsome, funny, lovable cat.

Dobby: But...

We just haven't gotten there yet. I'm thinking we have fewer readers then we had to begin with. (Mom reaches out to pet Dobby). It will be okay. You destined to be a STAR someday my dear. Right now you are the brightest star in my heart.

Dobby: I'm ready now. (Wailing)

You will be even more ready later.

Dobby: (looking up at Mom ponders this) You're right! Now I have time to find a wig that fits.

(Mom rolls eyes) Where does he get this stuff anyway? (Mom pets him more. Stroking the cat along the length of his back. She stops at the lump.) Umm...Dobby. There is something wrong back here.

How long have you had this jumpsuit on?

Dobby: I went to the basement and put it on a few minutes ago.

There is a...big lump in the back of the jumpsuit. I thought maybe you had an accident.

Dobby: Mom I'm six! I don't have that problem! It's my tail. Elvis didn't have a tail. I kind of hid mine. For...authenticity.

Sweetie you are a cat. Cats have tails. You'll feel better if you let yours loose in the back like it should be. Here. (Mom takes the stitch ripper and very gently pulls out the back seam a couple of inches to accommodate Dobby's tail. Mom tries to pull the tail through the hole but she can't seem to.) Dobby honey did you do something to your tail to hold it into place?

Dobby: Yep. Pony tail holders.

Dobby! (Mom turns him around, unzips the jumpsuit and quickly dumps him out of it grateful he has no nuts that might have gotten caught on the zipper. Dobby starts to run.) I mean business this time kitty! (Dobby stops and lays down on the floor—dead weight. Mom removes the pony tail holders at an alarming speed. Dobby runs away the minute Mom finishes—she yells after him) Pony tail holders are for hair not tails! (Mom is left sitting on the den floor alone muttering to herself). They are for hair not tails...how does he do this stuff? Hair not tails. HAIR NOT TAILS!