Winchester Prepares His Case Against The Writer

We go to court tomorrow so we need to whip this case into shape.

Tomorrow is Saturday. Nobody has court on Saturday.

Hmm. Maybe I read the summons wrong. Anyway we need to work hard to prosecute The Writer for throwing me in the slammer. I'm representing myself, of course.

A cat who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.

Very funny. Go look up "equitable subrogation."

Why?

Because you're my paralegal. You're assisting me with my case. While you're at it, look up Morris vs. 9-Lives.

That doesn't have anything to do with your lawsuit.

I know. I just want to see how Morris got all that free cat food. Now snap to it.

I'm just another overworked, underpaid, under-appreciated paralegal.

And call me "counselor."

Winchester Sues The Writer

What's that paper you've got?

A summons to appear in court. I'm suing The Writer.

For what?

Mental cruelty. Involuntary lock-up. Catnapping.

Oh, for heaven's sake. You've were boarded three and a half days and that was two weeks ago. Why can't you sulk like other cats and then get over it?

It's a matter of principle. I know my rights. I hope the judge throws the book at The Writer.

"Throws the book." Ha-ha! Very funny!

At the very least I should get a nice chunk of change from this lawsuit. That should pay for the hours of emotional anguish.

You've been watching too many re-runs of Law and Order. And isn't a sheriff's deputy supposed to issue a summons?

They were all busy. I might sue you too since you went with her on that little vacation.

Your case is full of holes, Winchester. The judge will toss it out.

See you in court!

Winchester Wants to Stay in Jail

Well, I'm back. I had a wonderful time at the Hope and Glory Inn.

I'm glad one of us did.

Don't sound so bitter. It wasn't that bad.

It was horrible! The guards threw slop at us and guard dogs barked day and night. I couldn't sleep a wink. I tried to break out, but I got caught.

That's not what I heard. When The Writer came to pick you up from the vet's, you ran back in your kitty condo. She and the technician tried to put you in the carrier, but you clawed your way up the whole stack of condos. I heard you looked like King Kong climbing the Empire State Building. They had to call in a third person to pull you off and stuff you in the carrier.

That's right. I'd rather stay in jail than be pushed in that vile box. Who knows where The Writer would haul me off to next?

She brought you home. You sulked for five minutes, then begged for food, like always.

Might as well give her a chance to get back in my good graces.

Winchester Busts Out of the Joint

Stay close to the floor, cat. Nobody will see us. We're out the door! Good job! Now, over the wall . . . look sharp! Oh, no! There's the spotlight! We're caught! The sirens are deafening! Here come the guards! We'll be sent up the river to the Big House!

[Our last morning at the Hope and Glory Inn. The Writer is lingering in the gardens, taking pictures. She doesn't want to leave. I don't blame her. I'll miss relaxing in this nice big chair. I hardly ever have any furniture to myself--Winchester tends to hog every seat. Oh, well. All good things must come to an end.]

This is it! The ennnnd!!!!

Day 3 in the Clink

Okay, here's what's going down: me and this cat in solitary want to make a break for it. Before the guards have their second cup of coffee, One-eyed Jake will loosen the latches on our cells. Then me and the other cat will lay in wait.

Every day at noon the Kibble Guy makes a delivery. Jake will create a diversion when he comes in the lobby. Me and the other cat will scram out the door and hide in the bushes. Somehow I will make my way home.

Or not. I may go live someplace else and find another best friend!

[Today I took a bike ride. It was so much fun! And then I sat outside in the garden. Isn't this garden sculpture neat? It's made out of moss and natural stuff packed inside a wire frame. I'm really starting to like this place. Maybe I'll just stay here.]

Day 2 in the Slammer

I'm making claw marks on the wall of my cell. Two long, miserable days. The guard who tosses me mealy kibble told me The Writer (my "owner," he called her, as if) and her husband are off on some fancy trip.

There's a one-eyed cat here named Jake. He's a lifer and is allowed outside. I think you call that a trustee. Anyway, he says he can spring me from this joint. We're making plans--uh-oh. Gotta lie low. The guard is coming back . . .

[Nothing like a king-sized bed with a duvet, featherbed, and mounds of down pillows. I can see the treetops from the little balcony. Birds are flying across the blue sky and singing. It's like being in a tree house. Heaven . . . I may never leave.]

I hope Ellsworth is having a great time, wherever the little traitor is.

[Winchester who?]

Winchester Goes to Jail

I knew something was fishy when they dragged me to the vet last week! The Writer got out that horrible cat carrier again. But I didn't go easy. It took two men and a boy to capture me and get me in that thing. And where did they take me this time?

Jail!!! Lock-up! I am behind bars!

It's so humiliating. A tiny cell with a rag for a bed, a stainless steel bowl of water (I miss my Garfield bowl), and a disgusting, way too small toilet in the same room. No privacy to do my business.

Oh, the humanity! I am not a crook! I'm innocent, I tell you! It's a frame-up!

Ellsworth, where are you? Get me out of here! Bring me a catfood cake with a file in it. Ellsworth? Ellsworth?

[Ah, this is the life. I'm so glad The Writer and her husband took me with them on their 30th anniversary trip.]

Winchester Smells a Rat

Did you see what happened yesterday? There I was, taking my early afternoon nap, when I was rudely snatched up by The Writer and stuffed in the cat carrier!

Stuffed is right. I thought she'd have to use a battering ram to get you in it.

And then we went to the vet's! The Writer even had the nerve to take my picture there. I got two shots and that blasted thermometer. And the vet said I need to lose another half a pound! What was up with all that?

Hmm.

You know something, don't you? Spill!

Well, the vet's wasn't the only place The Writer went to yesterday. She also visited the new SPCA facility.

Special Treatment for Cat Association?

No, SPCA. Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Somebody finally blew the whistle and turned her in!

Actually, she dropped off a donation of cat food.

Giving away precious food! That is cruel. But wait--what's that got to do with taking me to the vet's? Is she thinking about sending me to that place? Tell me, Ellsworth. I have to know!

My lips are sealed.

You don't even have any lips.

Winchester Goes Into Time-Out

Is my time up yet?

You were just sent in there for waking everybody up at 4:04 this morning. And 4:15 yesterday. And 4:40 the morning before that.

Can I help it my stomach-clock is set a little early?

The Writer doesn't appreciate you digging at the bedroom door at that ridiculous hour. Neither do I!

Being sent to the powder room for Time-Out is cruel and unusual punishment. When I get out of here, I'm calling the STCA.

You mean the "SPCA."

No. Special Treatment for Cats Association. They handle dozens of cases like mine every single day. The Writer will be lucky if she gets to keep me after the STCA gets through with her.

You're lucky she doesn't put you up for adoption!

How much longer so I have to stay in here?