Detective Fuzzywinkles. Undercover cop. Day 8. I’ve infiltrated one arm of Bumpy's catnip network, and I’m working my way up the chain. Officially, my captain wants to bring the whole thing down. Unofficially, I’m trying to spread the good truth about catnip. That it’s actually good for you.
"Wait, wait, wait. What's the difference again?"
Felin sighs and puts her head in her hands. "For the last time, fresh catnip is stronger than dried catnip. The longer it's been removed from the plant, the weaker the Nepetalactone is!"
I sat in stunned silence, mulling the words and letting them rattle around in my brain for a minute.
"Why do I feel like you're still not getting it?" She prodded.
"No, I get it. But I just don't get why I get it." I replied.
"What difference does it make? If anyone asks, just tell them fresh is stronger. Anything you're left with at the end of the day will get chopped and dried for future use. We dry it as fresh as possible to get the strongest Nepetalactone hit later on." She explained.
"Sure thing, boss." I nodded.
"Stop calling me that. I don't like labels," she snapped. I seem to have struck a nerve.
"So am I ready for the street yet?" I asked.
"Yes, now take these bags and go over to the corner of 15th St and Wagtail Ave. You'll have to keep moving regularly so you don't get hassled by cops on your route. Slowly make your way to the warehouse on the other side of town."
"I won't be coming back here?"
"No, if you come back here, they'll figure it out. We have to keep them guessing for now. Once kitty crack, I mean catnip, is legalized, we can come out of the shadows and embrace the light." She explained.
"And how am I supposed to get to my corner?" I asked.
"Meowgli will drop you off. Any other questions?"
I shook my head no.
I followed Meowgli out of the basement and out to the parking garage. He was a big, white cat with a black suit and sunglasses. Definitely a bodyguard of some type. Not exactly inconspicuous, though.
We got into his car. He was quiet the whole time. I didn't mind, as it gave me time to think about stuff.
What to Do With Fresh Catnip
Hard to believe I'm here right now. About to start pushing cat nip on an unsuspecting public. They all need a free hit of Nepetalactone, but they just don't know it yet.
I patted my coat, feeling the bags underneath. Ten bags of dried catnip, ten bags of fresh. Once I was out, I had to book it back to the other warehouse where someone else would drive me back to my place.
They had a pretty decent system running. So much infrastructure and networking right under our noses.
Speaking of noses, I wondered if I could take a quick free hit of some fresh catnip. No one would really no, would they? Also, it's not like a small sniff would make it less potent.
I carefully started pulling the bag out of my coat, trying not to make any noise.
How Often Can Cats Have Catnip?
"Do you think I can't see you? You're sitting right next to me." Meowgli's voice was big and booming.
"What are you talking about?" I asked. I didn't move a muscle, just in case he got distracted.
"You're trying to sniff some of the catnip. I used to be a lot like you when I first started. I would always take a huge hit at the start of my shift. Now, I can't take any. My nose is too used to it," he explained.
"How long did it take, though? I mean, you must've gotten a lot of mileage out of it, right?" I squeezed the bag in my paw.
"Not as much as you'd think. If I were you, I'd pace myself. Go a couple of days between uses. You start using it too much, and it doesn't activate the senses well anymore."
His voice sounded sad, almost morose.
"We're here," He muttered.
That was fast. He pulled up on the side of the road and took off as soon as I closed the door.
I looked around at the crowded street. Nothing but cats living their lives. Cats unaware that the truth is hiding right beneath their noses. If only they would stop to smell the plants, they'd know the truth about cat nip and Kitty Crack.
Oh, right. Meowgli's not around. Maybe I should just take a quick hit.
I ducked into an alleyway, careful to avoid being seen. I ripped a bag of fresh catnip from my pocket and peeled it open ever so slightly. I took a quick whiff, and was transported to cat heaven.
Suddenly, my good feelings crashed down.
"Hey, you selling Cat Crack?" A voice rose from behind the dumpster.
I peered around and found a gray alley cat leaning against the wall.
"Who's asking?" I asked.
"How much?" He replied.
"Dried or fresh?"
"What's the difference?"
Suddenly, my mind went blank. I kept trying to remember what Felin told me, but I could only see her mouth moving, not hear the words coming out of it.
"Fresh is fresh, and dried is dried! What do you want?" I snapped.
"Um, fresh, I guess."
I handed him the bag and darted back out onto the street. It was a few blocks before I realized I never accepted any cash. I silently cursed myself and promised it wouldn't happen again.
Why Do Cats Like Catnip?
By dusk, I had sold almost all of the bags. It seems dried catnip was more popular than fresh catnip plant. Maybe people assume that dried is better because it lasts longer. I'm not sure.
Finally, I realized I was only a few blocks away from the warehouse. I had to get rid of this stuff fast so I wouldn't bring any back with me. Felin would throw a hissy fit if I did.
I managed to find a group of younger street thugs. If anyone needs mellowing out, it's them. I only had fresh catnip left, so I hope they didn't have a preference for dried.
"How do you do, fellow kids?" I asked.
They looked me up and down. "You a cop?" One of them asked.
I started laughing out loud. "If I was a cop, wouldn't I have to tell you I'm a cop?"
"Not necessarily. Statute 43-B6 gives cops leeway about the whole thing."
These thugs were well read.
"Well, I'm not a cop. But I have some fresh catnip on me, if you guys are interested in a free hit."
At the word "free," they crowded around me.
"Like, totally free?" One of them asked.
"The first hit's free, but then you have to pay," I replied.
Suddenly, I felt cold steel wrap around my paw. Pawcuffs.
I turned to see a beat cop cuffing me. "You're under arrest, pal."
Before I could say anything, he shoved me down the street and into an unmarked police car.
This is the last thing I need. Now I'll have to do a song and dance with my boss to get out of this mess. If I don't do things correctly, my cover's blown, and the whole thing goes down the drain.
Aye yi yi. What a day.
Fresh catnip now getting tossed in the evidence locker. What a waste of potent Nepetalactone. Yes, dried catnip can still do the trick, but not when it’s sealed in a bag, in a box, in a dark, locked room. That catnip could’ve helped some poor cat relax after a hard day. It could’ve helped an older cat feel young and frisky for about 30 minutes. It could’ve done some good things.
What a shame.