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kara zor-el
January 2014

“Kara Zor-El”—that’s an unusual name. What’s it from?

I love you.

Aw, that’s very sweet, Kara. Thank you.

I still love you. I really, really super-duper, pooper-stupor do.

OK, sweetie, focus. Sit. Down. Good girl.

Sorry. I’m overcome by how great life is sometimes. The question. Right. Mom and Dad named me after Supergirl. That’s her Kryptonian name.

Mom and Dad are comic books fans?

No, they just hate me.

What?!?

Kidding. I love my name. Also, I think I’m going to piddle, I love you so much.

Relax. Can you do “settle”?

You bet! Here I go! How’s that?

Perfect. Your training here at Tails has really paid off, hasn’t it?

It has. You’ve taught me excellent impulse control!

That’s great—

I want to lick your face.

No, not yet.

Boo. I love you slightly less.

You lie.

Busted. Hugs for everyone!

Patience. Are there any silly or little known facts should we know about you?

Dad told me that my great, great, great, great uncle Lars was Peter Lorre’s butt double in “The Maltese Falcon”.

That’s … unlikely.

No, really. It turns out Lorre was born with a tail.

A tail.

Yeah, he was really proud of it, but it was a bit stubby, so the directors wanted something more dramatic, more Germanic, when he did his shower scene with Bogart.

Are you making this up?

No.

Kara . . .

Yes.

I thought so.

I love you.

So … any favorite toys or games?

Monopoly, 21, checkers, and chess, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Isn’t that from an R.E.M. song?

Who’s “R.E.M.”?

They’re a band.

Hold on. There’s a band that sings about board games?

Well, just one—

They sound either really cool or really pretentious.

Pretty much the latter.

Ah.

Next up: if you had a major in college…what would it be?

Equestrian studies.

Horses?

Absolutely. You know those tiny horses that wear tennis shoes and work as service animals?

Yes.

I want one. More than anything.

For what?

You didn’t ask what I’d name him.

OK, what would you name him?

Attila.

“Attila the miniature horse.”

He’d be dreamy and make little squishy sounds with his shoes when he walked around the house.

That’s sweet, but why do you need a tiny horse named Attila?

I’d ride Attila around the house so I could reach the shelves and eat out of the peanut butter jar without Mom and Dad finding out.

How would you get the lid off?

Lid?

The lid. On the jar of peanut butter. The horse has hooves and you don’t have thumbs.

Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.

Bit of a problem.

Horses really can’t grip peanut butter jars?

No they can’t, sweetie.

How about their mouths?

Their mouths?

Could they get a lid off with their teeth?

I … I have no idea. A regular-sized horse might. With training.

Yeah, but I wouldn’t be able to fit a regular horse in my kitchen. That’s why I wanted a miniature one.

Don’t know what to tell you.

Kinda bummed right now, to be perfectly honest.

You gonna be OK?

I’ll be fine. You know why? Because—

—you love me?

YEAH! How’d you know?

Wild guess. Speaking of love, if you wrote a personal ad, what would it say?

“Fun-loving girl seeks disease-free partner for light petting and kibble play. No druggies.”

Wow. You had that one all ready to go.

I post a lot of personals.

Really?

I’m spayed, Angi, I’m not dead.

Of course not. Any other information we should know about you?

Do you know I love you?

I’ve heard rumors, yes.

Well, that’s all you need to know.

OK, sweetie, come here and give me a kiss.

I love you.

NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM