Crenshaw slapped at a moth with his other front paw. The moth fluttered over his head like it was laughing at him. “I hate moths,” he said. “They’re butterfly poseurs.” “I don’t know what that means.” “Butterfly wannabes.” “If you know everything I know, how come you know words I don’t know?” “It’s been three years, Jackson. A cat can do a lot of learning in that time. I read the dictionary four times last month.”
