Wolves and Monsters and cats oh my, this really is the Island of Dr. Moreau, Arklay, cause I met a Howling wolf today who wanted to maybe eat me up,and me a poor little cat. I know him. I knew him the moment he spoke like a Southern gentleman. I met such rough men before in my life.  I seen him clear as day for what he was — guffie.  That of sweet talking fellow with a rough hand. I know his kind cause me and mine had dealing with such men.  We were the nakens, you know us but you don’t, traveling the backroads of the nation for ever, fixing your roofs — sort of, resurfacing your drive for you — until it rains, you know the fast talking telemarketer — that gets your gran to give up her credit card number for magazines. What of me, I was long con, the pretty little girl, the innocent young thing that my father called the baited hook.  Looks good but hooks you into all sorts of trouble, blackmail and in a pinch simple rob and dash.  That sort, you know, Travellers, oh sure there are some tells you that we have been reformed, just understand the cultural difference. What a laugh, ah the long con…  Well it was no con when the end came and we chased the setting sun from the Carolinas where kept our home camp. We tried to out run the troubles in your RVS and trailers.  We always run, but father always said you can an out run the cops, but you can’t out run Fate, only delay it. I suppose that was why I could see the wolf clearly when he flashed his teeth.  Yes, he was a charming thing, but this cat intends to give fate the slip as long as possible.