Edith was on Goose’s bed.
She sat back on her rear legs and held her front paws up in front of herself in an obvious begging position.
Tuna Todd stood before her. He tore little chunks of tuna off a bigger piece and dropped them into Edith’s mouth.
He asked, “Who’s a good kitty?”
“I am!” Edith exclaimed. Of course, Tuna Todd couldn’t understand what she said—but he encouraged her just the same.
“Who wants some more tuna?” he asked, and held another piece of fish in front of her.
“I do, Tuna Todd!” Edith screamed. She was springing up and down on her back legs now. “I do!”
“You’re not going to tell anybody I was here, are you?”
“No, Tuna Todd! Never!” exclaimed Edith. She stretched up and forward and snatched the tuna from the burglar’s hand. “Your secret identity is safe with me, Tuna Todd!”
“Edith!” screamed Stick Cat from the doorway. “What are you doing?!”
She was far too busy chewing to answer, but the man turned his head quickly upon hearing Stick Cat.
“Ahh, you want your share too, hunh?” the burglar said upon spotting Stick Cat. He had obviously misinterpreted Stick Cat’s sounds again. He yanked off another chunk of tuna and tossed it toward Stick Cat. “Here you go, kitty.”
Now, Stick Cat had absolutely no intention of eating that tuna from this terrible man. He looked forward to turning his head away from that chunk of fish—or maybe even batting it back at him. That would teach this mean burglar a lesson.
But Stick Cat never even got the chance.
That’s because as soon as that tuna was airborne—as soon as it began traveling in a graceful arc toward Stick Cat—something happened.
Do you know what happened?
I bet you do.
I’ll tell you in case you don’t.
Edith sprang from the bed and snatched that tuna from the air before it even began its descent.
She snared the flying tuna chunk in her teeth and landed gracefully on all fours on the bedroom carpet. She had already swallowed it when the burglar spoke.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s the way I do things too! Take whatever I want, whenever I want. You are my kind of cat!”
“And you are my kind of cat-loving superhero!” Edith exclaimed with true admiration.
“Edith!”
She turned a guilty head over her shoulder as her tongue circled her lips in search of extra tuna bits. “Yes, Stick Cat?”
“How can you do that?”
“How can I do what?”
“Play with this terrible person?”
“I like to play.”
“And how can you eat treats from him?!”
“The eating is the best part,” Edith explained casually. In truth, she seemed slightly relieved that Stick Cat wasn’t upset about her snatching his tuna portion out of midair. She continued, “But you have to eat it correctly.”
Stick Cat was frustrated with Edith. That was certain. But he had to ask, “What do you mean? What’s the right way to eat tuna?”
“I’m glad you asked,” answered Edith. She was all too happy to explain. “You see, I have a very sophisticated palate. It’s taken me years to refine my tasting capabilities. My taste buds have not been dulled and sullied by pouch food. No. My taste buds have been developed and nurtured by my love of finer, more elegant cuisine. I’m quite a conundrum.”
“Conundrum?”
“That means I’m a food expert.”
“I think you mean connoisseur.”
Edith didn’t like being corrected—or interrupted. You could tell. She hesitated a few seconds, closed her eyes very slowly, and then opened them just as slowly.
“As I was saying,” Edith continued. “To eat and savor tuna properly, you must hold it in your mouth for a moment. You must let that awesome tuna goodness spread all around. You must combine the tuna with the liquid in your mouth. You must let it swim. It must swim, Stick Cat! It must swim!!”
Stick Cat had never seen Edith quite this worked up. She was delighting in her description.
“After the tuna, umm, swims,” said Stick Cat. “Then what do you do?”
Edith nodded at the question. She appreciated that Stick Cat recognized her expertise.
“Then,” Edith said, and paused. “Then you just chew it and swallow it as fast as you can! I’m REALLY good at eating fast!”
“Wow,” Stick Cat said. “You make it sound so nice. Maybe I should try some.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Stick Cat,” Edith said. “You’ve already refused it twice. And I’m really the expert here. When Tuna Todd sprinkles the world with Magic Tuna Dust, you should just let me take care of it.”
“‘Magic Tuna Dust’?”
“That’s right,” Edith said. “That’s how I’ve come to think of his tasty tuna distributions—Magic Tuna Dust.”
Stick Cat hung his head.
He truly didn’t know what to do. He knew it would be hard to convince Edith this man was a bad person when she thought he was some kind of hero spreading Magic Tuna Dust all over the place.
What Stick Cat did not know was this: the burglar himself would soon convince Edith that he needed to be stopped.