The Mudcat Recovery ward has opened again, between the holidays, so calico Clementine can convalesce. Last week she was caught (by the back leg--but luckily no breaks, no broken skin) by Cinnamon (who is now banned to the back of the pickup truck in the Tavern parking lot). Clementine's uninjured except for a dislocated jaw that she got when she bit Cinnamon on the nose. Any extra salmon tidbits from the bar may be put in her little bowl and sent back to her royal behindness, who is curled up in a doughnut-shaped kitty bed that seemed suitable for a kitty to convalesce in.

Cinnamon is contrite and is on antibiotics for cat bite and will also happily accept salmon tribute to her bodacious self (since she managed to crawl under or leap over the back fence three times after the cat-fiasco).

Rapaire managed to leave a snoring holographic image of himself in the corner on the bench while he is in reality off in Pound Laundry for a week.

After a false start, SRS has identified the SS who liberally scattered clues around the 'Cat. Blue tits as red herring--a good one! A bottle of sparkling cider to My Guru Always Said, please, barkeep!