ugh my thick fur. The merest touch, like a
caress, now and then thrilled along the silky sloping hairs which clothe
me.... But then you never act with any discretion. Your vulgar gayety is
a nuisance, and when sad you howl like a low comedian.

TOBY-DOG, (_bitterly)

_ If you woke up just to tell me _that_--

KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_correcting_)

Of course you'll remember 'twas _you_ woke me.

TOBY-DOG

I was so uncomfortable, I wanted someone to help me, to give me a word
of encouragement....

KIKI-THE-DEMURE

_I_ don't know any digestive words.

(_Pause_.)

Fancy their giving _me_ a bad character when ... Just examine your
conscience a bit and compare us. Hunger and heat wear you out and drive
you mad; cold makes your blood curdle....

TOBY-DOG, (_vexed_)

Mine is a sensitive nature.

KIKI-THE-DEMURE

A demoniacal nature, you mean!

TOBY-DOG

No, I don't mean that. You--you're a monstrous egoist.

KIKI-THE-DEMURE

Perhaps.... You and the Two-Paws don't understand what you're pleased to
call a cat's egoism.... Our instinct of self-preservation, our dignity,
our modest reserve, our attitude of weary renunciation (which comes of
the hopelessness of ever being understood by them), they dub, in
haphazard fashion, egoism. You're not a very discriminating dog, but at
least you're free from prejudice. Will _you_ understand me better? A cat
is a guest in the house, not a plaything. Truly these are strange times
we're living in! The Two-Paws, He and She, have _they_ alone the right
to be sad or joyful, to lick plates, to scold, or to go about the house
indulging their capricious humors? I too have _my_ whims, _my_ sorrows,
_my_ irregular appetite, _my_ hours of reverie when I wish to be
alone....

TOBY-DOG, (_attentive and conscientious_)

I'm listening, but I can hardly follow what you say. It's so
complicated--a bit over my head, you know. But you astonish me! Are they
in the habit of hindering you in your changeful moods? You mew, and they
open the door. You lie on the paper--the sacred paper He's scratching
on--He moves away, marvelous condescension!--and leaves you his soiled
page. You meander up and down his scratching table, obviously in quest
of mischief, your nose wrinkled up, your tail giving quick little jerks
back and forth like a pendulum. She watches you laughing, while He
announces "the promenade of devastation." How then, can you accuse
Them--

KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_insincere_)

I don't