“Good afternoon, I greet you with the pretend formality of the honorable Japanese art form that I represent. My name means the art of singing and dancing. When I sing, you will hear me. You will also hear my honorable Siamese ancestors from whom I received these serious blue eyes – eyes the color of a deep lake, a sacred pool, a singing cat.”

“Why am I, then, not called ‘buru’ for ‘blue’? Poor, curious human! It is my eyes that are blue, not my whole self. And my whole self is pretty much the color of the rice powder that Kabuki performers use as their make-up base. Do you know this? Yes, I have a few beige and peach overtones, slightly sorted into stripes, left by the ancestors. Now, can we talk about how charming and serene and sensible I am?”

“Good. Kabuki is a young man, a brave man, and a good soul. He is alert and aware. I would say also that I have the face of a lioness – except I’m a guy. Perhaps in one of my 17^th century Kabuki lives I played a lioness. Cats do these things.”

“I am a blissful fellow, content in my dreams when I’m sleeping. Do you remember Chessie, the spokeskitten for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway? I am – when I’m asleep – as blissful as she. When I’m awake, of course, I sing. But I sing well. I hit the right notes. I do not yowl. I tell you who I am. I am fond of people, and I am a bit embarrassed that it says “Stray” on my door. If you adopt me – only $120 – yes dollars, not yen – we can throw that little sign away. That would be so good.”

“Ooops! No, I did not fall off the shelf. I was planning that move. I am a singing and dancing artist, remember? I am Kabuki. I am both alert and blissful. I will now dance. Dance myself right into your heart – you cannot resist, cannot resist, cannot resist….”