Folksburywoods Story Blog

“Why can’t we take the fabulous flying chair on vacation this year? I don’t particularly appreciate flying in a cat cage. I AM NOT A PRISONER!” argued Izba, the magical cat.

“The chair is for work, and you know how Auntie Margret gets when we show up for Mardi Gras, using our magical skills,” replied Franny.

The two continued their back-and-forth until Izba said he would stay home and eat dry cat food rather than endure the torment of airport travel.

“Well, if you feel that strongly, I will let Marget know we have a previous engagement and will not be able to come,” said Franny.

The remainder of the day was spent gardening in the herbal patch, followed by a quick flight on the fabulous chair to Albania to gather wormwood for Angus’s tonic.

“I am tuckered out. I’ll take a hot bath before bed. You can get your own dinner tonight,” Franny told Izba.

“Eat dry cat food like some stray. I am the offspring of an Egyptian sorcerer, and you want me to eat store-bought cat food. What is the world coming to?” grumbled Izba.

“Sometimes you are too full of yourself. Remember how the chickens pulled you out of the water bowl after you almost drowned?” chided Franny.

“I thought we agreed that is never to be talked about again,” said Izba.

Franny left the cat to get dinner on its own while she relaxed in a hot bubble bath.

“I’m eating frosted cereal and leftover doughnuts for dinner. I hope you are happy,” Izba yelled to Franny.

“OK with me, but you better leave some milk for my morning tea, or there’ll be hell to pay,” replied the hedgewitch.

After dinner, Izba slunk into the bedroom and crawled up to the end of the bed. “Sorry about Mardi Gras, I guess it won’t kill me to go under the seat, but I am not going under the plane it smells like old rubber boots,” said Izba.

“Thank you. I’ll let Margret know in the morning. Good night, and don’t let the bed bugs bite,” said Franny.

“About that, I think I may have picked up fleas in Albania.” said the cat.

“Floor now,” commanded the witch.

“Geez, I think I’ll sleep on my chair. Good night, mistress of torture,” said Izba, and he dragged himself to the other room.

“Remember, things always look brighter in the morning,” remarked Franny.

“Yeah, right, try looking on the bright side of a flea bath,” the cat said to himself, then curled up and fell asleep.