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Maybe that's why the dogs hadn't developed space travel themselves yet. They had an amusement park on the moon, but they had to borrow otter technology to put it there and lease otter technology to keep it running. That's right, the otters surprised everyone and were the second race to make it off of their native rock. Except, unlike humans, they didn't just disappear. They filled the skies with space stations and space ships. By all accounts, they liked it better up there. Kipper wondered if she'd like it better up there too.

But cats don't go into space. They live in the inner cities, working low-paying jobs, and the dogs like it that way. A poor cat is a controlled cat, but now that the average cat income was increasing for the first time since cats won the right to vote, dogs were getting scared.

As Kipper looked around her, she twitched the tip of her tail nervously. There were three cats waiting at the bus stop, in addition to her and her sister Petra. And one Chihuahua on a cell phone.

Petra was an orange tabby, and she had the erratic temper to match her coloring. Sometimes Kipper was jealous of Petra's brightly colored stripes, as she, herself, was the most common of all kinds of cats. A plain gray tabby. Petra's bold coloring came with a bold personality, as if the bright, angry color of her fur branded Petra down to her very soul. Sometimes Kipper was jealous of that too. Yet, it came with a price. Petra could be unpredictable. Uncontrollable. Even for herself.

"How did I get myself into this?" Petra asked Kipper, barely loud enough for the words to whisper past her whiskers.

Before Kipper could answer with the long story of how Petra and their brother Alistair had stayed up late, drinking spiked cream and egging each other on, challenging each other with greater and greater outrage over the system...

"I guess I'd best get on with it," Petra said. The moment of lucid uncertainty gone, Petra stepped closer to the bus stop. She stared at each of the cats in turn, trying to catch the eyes of their fellow commuters. The tabby in the rain slicker flattened his ears; the fat Jellicle on the bench gave her a blank stare; and, the other tabby simply looked away. The Chihuahua smiled with friendly, sparkly eyes. Petra probably could have struck up a conversation with him if he weren't on the phone. Maybe the other cats would have listened in.

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