in christian terminology, the bird is the word. cats like to keep up-to-date but are only really interested in the key to the cage, milk that stays sweet, butter that's been warmed in the sun. you can't trust them. tom figured that out the hard way...lost his mom to a hit and run or as the ancients used to say, a wound that you were born with. it wasn't messy just loud, the kind of noise that you can smell for decades after it impacts you. big cats don't understand all the fuss. they have it and they know it and they know that no-one else can have it. tom wanted it, craved it. devoted his life to it. but in the end, could only really watch it, always outside of himself. that was the moral. you can't have what you hear only want what hears you. tom hated that type of morality. In his private moments he complained to jesus - who couldn't care less. jesus wrote a poem about it, "i couldn't care less about this mess." tom sued him. in the courtroom. jesus got hysterical, really outa line. but being born with a gift of gab he distracted everyone with party jokes while he picked up the money. it was a perfectly laid plan. the judge, who never even saw the money picked up his gavel and announced, " please, everyone just go home. there is a big game on tv." tom siged with relief. jesus hugged him while stealing his wallet. they both went home. jesus took the jury out for all-u-can eat chinese food. they ate like some kind of non-descript, never say die, one-of-a-kind bob's your uncle farm animals. jesus smiled a huge grin revealing a gold tooth. all the jury members looked up simultaneously...allured by the beautiful light coming from jesus's mouth.