So I Began to Farm Cats

I was fair warned but I’m the kind of guy if you yelled fire I’d run right at it. So I began to farm cats anyway, and guess what. Shrieky propaganda to the contrary, it was the smartest damn move I ever made. I’ve got the gift, in spades. Even international feline agronomists show up to see my cats fire out of the ground like popcorn. Their wives go, “How do you DO that,” eyes all wide and swimmy, but what the hell do I know? “Pure touch,” I say, bullshitting, winking, radiating. “Slow hands.” They blush and glance away.

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Title by: Snitty J. Grin
Story by: Bill Henderson
Illustration by: Janie Woodbridge

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