The cat said, "Yao" in a voice both plaintive and forelorn, a cry made to be abandoned. I have seen some cats in my life, cats on the street, cats dead in dumpsters, cats covered in scabs and parasites and open, pus-dripping sores, cooked cats on silver platters surrounded by cooked snakes as an expensive, showpiece serving of “Tiger Fights Dragon.”
"Do you even have the right to 'yao' like that?" I asked.
Silence, though of what sort?