Some Words of Advice

The previous installments in all this are 1 and 2, while this week's Thursday Prompt over at Poetigress's place was the word "curious." So--

     "Hi, Mr. Augie!  Hi!"

     The call from the tree I was passing made me grab my wheels 

and pull to a stop there on the sidewalk.  "A voice!" I said a 

little louder than necessary.  "A mysterious voice from on high!"

     I could hear giggling now; Serena loves it when I play along.  

"Who could it possibly be?" I went on, clutching the fingers of 

one hand at the front of my jacket, a bit more winter hanging in 

the cloudy blue today than yesterday.  "What spirit of the air 

deigns to call upon this humble mortal?  What wandering fairy 

lisps her dulcet tones over this poor human?  What--?"

     "It's me, Mr. Augie!"  A flash of yellowish gray, and a 

squirrel leapt onto my thighs, her dark eyes shining.  "It's me!"

     "Serena!"  I crooked out a finger, scratched between her 

ears, her whiskers spreading with her grin.  "It is you!"

     "And not just me, Mr. Augie!"  She scrambled forward.  "I 

have my brain with me, too!  My own little brain!"

     "Your brain?"  This was new; in the year or so since Serena 

had first dropped down on me from the big jack pine at the end of 

the block, our talks had mostly focused on how fun food was and 

how nasty crows were.  "I'm a little surprised you know 

about brains."

     "But I do!  And mine does all kinds of things!"  She tapped a 

claw at her forehead.  "All kinds!  Like wondering where you come 

from all the time and how much like food you smell!  And how I 

might maybe come with you to where you go and see if there's any 

food there for me!  And--!"

     A clearing of throat from the sidewalk ahead, and I looked 

over to see El Brujo sitting on the crooked concrete, her chin 

tucked against her chest, her tail wrapped around her legs.  

Another grayish flash at the corner of my vision, and the big 

black cat stood, her tail raised like a flag, sauntered forward, 

and jumped up into my now-empty lap.  "I can't let you alone for a 

minute, can I?" she asked.

     I shrugged.  "Just chatting with the neighbors."

     "Really?"  She stretched out and crossed her front paws over 

my knees.  "Someday, that squirrel and I must have a little chat.  

Perhaps on the dangers of curiosity."

It then continues with 4.