When Christine got back to Vicki’s house, Vicki had not yet returned from her visit with Miyan.  Christine hoped that this meant they were having a long and fruitful discussion, and she was glad to find that Vicki had not locked the front door this time. 

     Christine was still exhausted from her session, and it was a very warm day.  Wearily she went inside and plopped down on the couch in the living room to wait for Vicki. 

     While she waited Christine spied a remote control and clicked on the TV.  It was early afternoon and there was nothing on but soaps.  Soaps filled with yiffy males in doctor outfits. 

     Suddenly Christine began to understand what was so stimulating about furry people wearing clothes.  Everyone had unique fur with infinite possibilities of texture, length and coloration.  Any time she saw a male in clothes her imagination went wild trying to picture what he looked like underneath, because there was no uniformity to this species, and thus no normality’s for her to anticipate.

     Every male seemed like a unique and beautiful work of natural art.  And since she was herself an artist, Christine's imagination was going crazy picturing the exotic possibilities hidden beneath the clothing, filling her with the irresistible desire to rip the clothes off so she could behold his natural beauty and ravage him with her passion. 

     The more she watched, the more thirsty she felt.  And at the point where she realized that her tongue was hanging out, and that she was panting, she went into the kitchen and looked through the fridge for something cold to drink. 

     Spying a six pack of beer Christine let out a joyful “Ah ha” and said, “Thank Ra.  Vicki drinks."

     She grabbed a beer and returned to the living room, just as the soap she’d been watching was ending. 

     A talk show followed hosted by someone who was apparently supposed to be some kind of family counselor.  He interviewed various couples about their problems maintaining a satisfying love life after marriage, or their difficulties in raising their children. 

     It quickly became apparent to Christine that just about every problem addressed on the show had something to do with idiosyncrasies caused by a person’s specific type of animal DNA, mixed with the denial of obvious facts that were no doubt part of living under The Suburbian Constitution.  Yet the counselor hosting the program seemed entirely oblivious to these possible causes.  It was like he had a blind spot in the middle of his forehead and could not see what was right in front of his nose. 

     Obviously it didn’t matter how much animal DNA a person was being influenced by, the people of Suburbia were obsessed with being human and not acknowledging their animal instincts.  Either that or they simply did not know enough about the animals they were mixed with to know what to make of their natural feelings and desires. 

     Christine found this interesting, but she was in the mood for something a little less clinical.  So she flipped the channel and found a more sensationalistic talk show about romantic and domestic disputes where the host deliberately encouraged his guests to become enraged and fight with each other. 

     For a while Christine thought this was hysterical, and she laughed loudly, thinking no one would hear her.  But soon there was a knock on the door, and Christine looked up to see Kacey peering in through the screen at her. 

     “Want some company?" asked Kacey, shyly. 

     “Please come in,” said Christine, happily.  “I’m so lonely."

     “I’ll just bet you are,” said Kacey as she came inside, setting a bag of groceries she’d been carrying on the floor as she sat down beside Christine.  “Do you realize every guy within a mile’s radius knows there’s a lonely vixen in town?  I could smell you all the way home from the store."

     “Uh, you mean I need a shower that bad?" asked Christine, nervously. 

     “A very, very cold shower,” said Kacey, as she reached in her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of perfume.  “And you need to use this special deodorant.  It closes the glands that release your mating scent."

     “You’re going to think me terribly ignorant,” said Christine, hesitantly.  “But I don’t actually know where those glands are."

     “Go get your shower,” said Kacey, understandingly.  “Then I’ll show you where you need to spritz yourself."

     Kacey relaxed in front of the TV while she waited for Christine. 

     About 15 minutes later Christine returned looking quite spiffy after having her fur dried and fluffed by the large hot air blower in Vicki’s bathroom.  This was something Christine had come to look forward to as one of the perks of being a furred creature.  Apparently the people of Suburbia had little use for towels, and the means they had invented for drying themselves were quite pleasurable. 

     Hurriedly, Kacey uncapped the bottle and gave Christine a good spritzing, simultaneously teaching her where all her mating scent glands were.  And Christine noted that they were all very sensitive places. 

     “They mark your erogenous zones,” Kacey explained, shyly.  “That’s how a male knows where to lick you to make you ready."

     Christine’s jaw dropped, not so much in shock to hear the shy little squirrel speak of such things, but because of the rush of need she felt at the thought of being prepared for intercourse by a male. 

     Christine sank down on the sofa, feeling quite flushed and over heated.  Her scent may have been masked, but the intense need within her continued to boil. 

     “Kacey,” asked Christine, emotionally.  “Is this what it’s like to be in heat?"

     “Heck no,” said Kacey.  “Being in heat is extremely painful.  You’re in the fun part right now, where every male looks yummy to you.  And you can enjoy flirting and playing - the occasional touch, even from a girl friend.  You become a big bundle of affection and sensitivity in this stage.  But it doesn’t last very long.  Heat comes next.  And, unless you can get yiffed, that’s no fun at all."

     “So my time is running out,” said Christine, forebodingly. 

     “Yes,” said Kacey.  “I pity you if your reasons for abstaining are strong enough to make you resist the natural compulsion.  I go through it at least once a month.  Twice if I can’t get a date with Perry that month.  I keep the music up real loud so Vicki won’t hear me scream."

     “It’s that bad?" asked Christine, anxiously. 

     “Worse,” said Kacey.  “I can’t explain it in words."

     “But you survive it,” Christine observed. 

     “Not by choice,” said Kacey.  “I often wish I were dead.  But I’m afraid to kill myself.  I’m afraid that I might not cease to exist.  I’m afraid I might end up as something that couldn’t dream - an immortal spirit trapped in eternal loneliness.  Or worse, what if I did cease to exist?  What would happen to my dream guys - to Andy Cassidy and your brother?  I know they died thousands of years ago.  But because I love them they live in my heart.  And if I were to still my heart, they might have to die all over again."

     “Wow, that is so deep,” said Christine, wonderingly.  “Did you learn that from some religion?"

     “I don’t exactly know where those thoughts came from,” said Kacey.  “Maybe from the romantic songs I like to listen to, or the romantic literature I read."

     “Your whole life is romance, isn’t it?" asked Christine, admiringly. 

     “My whole life is fantasy,” said Kacey.  “I can’t be happy in the real world.  To have any happiness at all I have to dream that I’m someone else - someone who doesn’t have my problems."

     “But you do have romance in the real world,” said Christine.  “You have one guy who can love you and touch you."

     “Do I?" asked Kacey, knowingly. 

     “What do you mean?" asked Christine. 

     “I know something’s going on with you and Vicki,” said Kacey.  “And there’s a very distinctive scent in the air near Perry’s house.  I’m never going to hold him again, am I?"

     “If you’ve figured out that much I guess there’s no harm in giving you confirmation of it,” said Christine.  “But I don’t want you to lose hope.  It’s not as certain a thing as you might think."

     “Perry didn’t get somebody pregnant?" asked Kacey, hopefully. 

     “No, he didn’t,” said Christine.  “It’s just some gold digger trying to lay claim to him.  Vicki has gone to see Miyan to talk about things we might do to get rid of her."

     “Oh my,” said Kacey, seeming shocked.  “What a terrible situation.  You’ll be breaking the law in The Mayor’s own house.  You’ll be endangering the future of Suburbia.  Why would you do that?"

     “For Perry’s happiness,” said Christine.  “For you and for Vicki.  I can’t let him be taken by a stranger who doesn’t love him."

     “This is a very bad thing you’re doing,” said Kacey.  “It’s against the law and it’s against our religion."

     “Are you advising me to butt out?" asked Christine. 

     “No,” said Kacey, emphatically.  “Your butting in is the only hope I have for survival.  I love Suburbia, but I don’t love it that much.  I know someday I’ll have to lose Perry.  But I want to lose him to someone who’ll make him happy, and you obviously don’t think he’ll be happy with this gold digger person."

     “Then I can count you in as part of the team,” said Christine, confidently.  “And if Miyan joins us, there’ll be four.  Four of us against one conniving bunny girl.  She won’t stand a chance."