Uh, Freckles? My fur is singed. I thought it was a mouse tail, but it was an outlet cord and as I tugged and gnawed, suddenly there was an ignescent incident and now I feel ow.
Oh, Speckles! You poor bitty-kitty! My colleague once had trouble with her hair iron. Let me see if I can borrow some of the salve she used to soothe her burn.
Aw, thank you so much, Freckles. That is so kind and thoughtful, but what if my fur does not grow back on me? I do not want to look like a naked mole rat.
Do not fret, Speckles, my friend. The balm promotes the return of fuzz after just three months of hebdomadal applications, so your dolor reason will not last more than a season.
Hey, Freckles? I am now wondering—because I am inclined towards curiosity—if I could maybe wear your orchidaceous scarf as a sort of fancy bandage while I am healing. It reminds me of you and I want to still feel close to you when we are not snuggling.
My sweetest Speckles! Of course, you can wear my kerchief! It will pepper you with some bright and fancy until you are back on your paws and ready to relay pounces for pets! ; )