Chiquita and Sequester

"Come Sequester, get dressed quick sticks, we must go dancing!" Cried Chiquita, completely out of the blue one fine and balmy Summer evening. Sequester looked at her with disdain as she danced about the living room of the cozy tomb they shared He had just finished laundering his fur and wasn't at all enthused to don collar and bow for an outing. In fact an hour or two dozing in front of the telly was what he had in mind, perhaps followed by a relaxing belly rub when it got a bit cooler.
His not altogether unusual reluctance wasn't lost on Chiquita, for although She dearly loved her feline companion, their tastes on just about everything were like night and day. Take the decor of the tomb they shared for instance; Chiquita had lavishly decorated richly in sumptuous velvets with plush carpets and faux fur, there right in the middle of the sofa like the veritable pimple on a pumpkin was Sequesters cherished 'nanna' knit afghan, a lime and yellow crocheted monstrosity that he simply couldn't relax without. After many heated discussions Chiquita had learned to live with the shapeless, fur encrusted eye sore, rather than face Sequesters rarely exercised, but smoldering none the less wrath. But really she couldn't complain, it was one of the few things that Sequester had ever insisted upon, with almost all of Chiquita's other wild and erratic, often eccentric ideas he was more likely to sigh and go back to sleep than make a fuss. Unlike Chiquita who�s feisty personality almost always got the better of her, Sequester was never one to let the fur fly.
But like all good friends, Chiquita knew the way to appeal to Sequesters affections. She bounded off to the kitchen to whisk up a cocktail for her feline friend. Soon she was blending a carton of lactose free pet milk and some very expensive anchovy fillets that she kept for just these sort of occasions together and pouring this aromatic concoction into his favorite cut glass bowl.
This dubious concoction had just the desired effect of Sequester, who twitched his whiskers and pried open one sleeping eye. Soon he was snaffling down his treat and licking his whiskers with delight. Purring with delight at Chiquitas caresses, he barely noticed her fastening his collar and brandishing a box of ribbons so that he might choose a bow for his tail. Within the hour he was looking dapper and ready for a Flamenco, or perhaps a Samba, or maybe a Tango- why not all three; for Sequester certainly knew his way around a dance floor and he was feeling frisky and ready to 'cut a rug'.
Chiquita smiled with delight and gave her companion a knowing wink as they made off for the dance hall!

- Lady Nemesis 2005