“Yes, Marica,” Missy looked up from where she was relaxing on the floor at Marica’s feet.
“Missy, I hope this doesn’t offend, but you’re getting a little… um, a girth upon you,” Marica stated.
“Ruff,” Rocky concurred.
“Oh, my, Marica, I know! Why! I look at myself in the mirror and I hardly know meself! I was once a stealth young thing. Full of vim and vigor and vinegar and vitriol! What’s become of me? Oh me, oh my. What’s become of meself?”
“Oh! I say!” Missy said shaking her head to shake it off.
“Are you okay, Missy?” Marica asked.
“Ruff?” Missy’s Dear Friend inquired.
“Oh! Pardon me, pardon me. I must have fallen asleep,” Missy answered. “Goodness. What a strange dream I was having.”
“Have you been reading Dickens?” Marica ventured
“Why yes,” Missy replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Ruff,” Rocky explained.
“Oh my! Talking in my sleep again have I been?”
“R.U.F.F.” Rocky humphed and jumped up on the futon. British detective novels. That’s what he recommends for one’s daily reading. British detective novels.