My Dearest Miss Chloe,

I think about you day and night.  The Mouser is at sea and it means nothing
to me without you by my side.  My first mate, Smokey, is dealing with most
of the minutiae of the ship and this leaves me to think of you and imagine
your soft sweet fur against my side.  I hear your silver voice singing in my
ears and I immerse my nose in the memory of your scent.

The fat wench says that she will make us a large red crushed velvet bed
cushion for our wedding.  Something that we can share together as we gaze
out at the sea through one of the port holes in (dare I say it?) our cabin.
She has already made us nip snakes, bought us a couple of special bowls of
our own to eat our gooshy food out of, and stock piled cases of fancy feast
and 9 Lives for our consumption.

Please, please, please tell me that you'll join me in furry matrimony.  Say
that you'll let me be your tim cat, and that you'll be my queen.  I ask you
again.  Miss Chloe, will you join me in wedded bliss by marrying me on
FranknNikki Island on June 21st?  Or will I be jilted, left at the altar in
the faces of all our friends and members of the Rainbow Bridge who will be
there as well?

Desperate,

Cap'n Pine Cone esq.