Lenny Nielsen sat back in his big, black leather chair and stroked the head of his large, white cat, Kasper. He reached over to a small glass-topped table on his right and fished a sardine out of the square tin place neatly in the center. He brought the fish over toward him in a slow arc. Kasper looked up and Lenny smiled down at his cat.
The cat put its head back down and Lenny guided the small fish still covered in olive oil neatly into his own mouth.
“Damn, man, does that cat ever get one?” asked Lenny’s brother Benjamin from across the room.
“We have a deal- if he brings me a mouse we can trade it for a sardine. But so far Kasper’s range of interests is limited to being petted and being petted,” said Lenny and smiled.
“Still, though, that’s got to be some kind of animal cruelty.”
“There are people with worse lives than Kasper,” said Lenny.
“You’re probably right,” said Benjamin and laughed.
“Did you talk to our friends in Denmark?”
“You mean Lars, Lars and Lars?”
“C’mon, man, you’re joking are they really all called Lars?” asked Lenny.
“No man but something viking-ish,” answered Benjamin.
“I’m okay with Lars, Lars and Lars as long as those minks are ready,” said Lenny as he stroked Kasper’s head.
“The government is giving them mega grief but they have a secret reserve.”
“Sounds nearly like a wine,” said Lenny.
“Yes, a hairy, smelly vintage full of corona virus. Could only be 2020,” said Benjamin and laughed.
