Cheysuli was saying that catpuncture was invented by Siamese. She said I probably knew when to take out Momma's needles last week 'cause I was probably a Siamese in my last life but I had bad karma and came back as a puffy cat instead of a Siamese. I feel sad.
Chey said that it's not so bad. At least I'm a cat. If I had been really really bad I would have come back as a dolphin or a dog! Imagine--ME a dog! And then she said that if I were really really really bad I could have come back as an elephant or as a bumble bee. My eyes got so big! Imagine me being an ELEPHANT! A big puffy ELEPHANT! Of course, Chey reminded me that if I were an elephant I probably wouldn't be so puffy.
Then she said if I had been just horrible I might come back as an ant or a spider. Oh how I love to kill spiders! I wouldn't have a furry long life as a spider.
And Cheysuli said when cats do the worse of things, but she wouldn't even explain to me the bad things cats had to do, then they came back as humans.
I said "NO! Momma is so nice to us. How could she be that bad?!"
Chey just shrugged and looked enigmatic.
"Can we purr for her to have better karma," I asked.
"Of course, Grasshopper," Cheysuli said, a hint of a feline smile hovering around her face as she did her best David Carradine impression. This was lost on me as I'm too young to remember David Carradine in Kung Fu.
"It seems like a big leap to hope that she can be a cat or a dog. I will purr that she will come back as a big old Cricket!"
Momma walked in and said, "A Cricket?! Thanks. At least you aren't praying I'll be a dung beetle in my next life."
"Oh Momma," I said, "Would you rather be a dung beetle?"
"No," she said. "I wouldn't rather be a dung beetle."
"You know, Gemini," she said, "A human teacher I had said cats are just lamas on vacation."
"Llamas?!" I said. "Do they take a vacation from spitting?"
"No Gemini, not llamas, lamas. Like the Dalai. You know, a spiritual master."
"Oh. So I could be a spiritual master?" I said.
"You could indeed be one, Sweet Little Puffy Cat."
"But Momma," I said, "I don't spit. So it's still a vacation from spitting."