They brought the cat in for questioning.
Sat him across the table, like a good little boy.
Then they started in, all those probing questions.
The cat stared at them blankly, flicked his whiskers.
One of the cops stood up, really tried to squeeze the perp.
Lock him into a story, lean on him until he broke.
The cat started cleaning, gave the boys in blue some
of the old razzle dazzle. Sgt. Doughnut Breath asked about
whereabouts: times, places. The cat hopped down and walked
over to rub up against his partner’s leg. The partner bent down
and pet the cat without thinking. “Oh, look at that little monster!
He’s Soooo Cute!” a voice came from the doorway.
They got him some food and his own bowl of water.
They gave the cat his own badge and gun and rank.
A tiny little uniform with his name.
Within a month, he was chief of police.
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Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Picture Nick Victor
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author who lives in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work has been published both in print and online in such places as: The New York Quarterly, Red Fez, Evergreen Review, International Times, Himalaya Diary, Huffington Post, Blue Collar Review, GloMag, and The Oklahoma Review. He enjoys listening to the blues and cruising down the TransCanada in his big blacked out truck.
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