“The rabbit next door was definitely not for eating, Nick decided. There was a better use for her.”
A hamster so old he’s forgotten to die.
A lop-eared rabbit whose crusty exterior hides a warm heart.
A dog whose body moves long before his brain gets the message.
The antisocial cat next door.
And a wisecracking squirrel with more schemes than a bestselling mystery author.
They don’t speak the same language.
They don’t share the same logic.
They barely understand each other at all.
It’s a microcosm of fur and communication failures — and when somebody shakes the jar, Fuzzy Logic reigns supreme.
The next morning, Nick slunk back over to Cinnabun's yard. He remembered a few of the words that the mice had uttered right before he ate them, and he decided he would try to use those words to strike up a conversation with the rabbit.
Nick didn't know what any of the mice's words actually meant, but he remembered how they sounded, and he thought that would be good enough to begin with. He walked as close to Cinnabun as her fencing would allow, and stared right in her eyes.
“Oh no! Help me!” he meowled in Rodent. This was something he had heard the mice say.
“Um... help you?” Cinnabun replied in Rodent. She was confused. She hadn't realized last night that Nick could speak Rodent, but obviously he must be able to. And now he had come to ask for her help. How strange!
Nick tried again. He recalled some other phrases.
“Look at those sharp teeth! This is the end!” he managed.
“Hmmm?” Cinnabun replied. “You afraid of dog? He not here. Everything safe.”
Nick didn't understand a thing that Cinnabun was saying (or a thing that he was saying himself, for that matter) but he soldiered on, hoping to make a connection.
“Oh my stars and whiskers, me going to die!” he screeched.
This really seemed to be serious. The cat was making no sense. Cinnabun remembered what her mother had told her about rabies, and decided that Nick probably had it. She turned tail and ran inside her rabbit house, shaking with fear.
“How inauspicious,” Nick said to himself. “This didn't go at all well. Perhaps I'll have to ply the little creature with food.”
Currently seeking representation for Fuzzy Logic and its companion titles.
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