Voices on the Wind Open Theme
Cat Fantastic by Dick Bakken True story told me by real Hobart (Ho-ho) 7/27/14 Hobart often slipped far back into childhood daydreams of those loved hours with his true pal, that wild ditch catfish he whistled into his heart whispering, “Hey you, Slicklips!” Ho-ho and baby sis Kitty he pulled in the little red Radio Flyer cradling old bread crusts, visited each day Vagabond Pond a few catfish had worked their way into stocked with those most furious black bass. Hobart tucked his lips in to blow shrill through his two front teeth each linger at the ripples as he and Kitty flung crusts. So that one old catfish got to know Ho-ho and yearned for him and those wee cowboy boot taps on the stones. Eventually Slicklips ate from Ho-ho’s hand, before long let him, but not Kitty, tickle his belly as he gulped crusts, and followed far as he dared when the wagon rolled out. You’d think a finny fat catfish might flash into shadows not dance on his tail, whirl in the shallows, cry bubbles of love, whistle like a meadowlark, splash a ride in a wagon, or let a silly kid dress him in a doll’s satin jacket. But oh you’ve never kissed Slicklips or Ho-ho. And you’ve never strolled along whistling like the puffiest damn breast along Vagabond Pond bursting those flames that rocket a heart up in the most furious geyser so far beyond rapture sparking our crimson witchiest of holy laughter.