So Tom (the fine gentleman of a pussycat that lives owns our house) and I have a special way of communicating. I sing a little non-worded tune at him and he comes running, regardless of where he may be in the house. In the early days of our relationship I would sing in this obnoxious falsetto screech of a voice that would make the wallpaper curl in our old farmhouse, but I can no longer do that since my voice finally changed when I turned 40. I don’t embrace my bass like voice but I sing in a range that no longer makes the garage door open and close.
A few moments ago he was approaching his food dish so I sang my little tune. This tune is composed of just a few notes and resides in a minor key. It has a haunting quality to it, especially when I let my vibrato tremble. OoooOoOOOooooOOOooo. It was then that I hit a totally shocking realization.
Holy copyright infringement!
The tune I sing is one that I heard when I was a kid. It’s from that “Wonder Woman” episode where Martin Mull plays an evil flute player that can disintegrate steel with his haunting melody and odd sounding flute.
Not only can he pulverize bank vaults but he can also reprogram Eve Plumb! And make Wonder Woman look drowsy!
Electra Ear Splitting!
And all I was trying to do was alert Tom to let him know his kibble had been served in his gilded bowl.
I’ll have to sing a new tune now.
