I first met Quilldancer on a blue cheese collecting expedition on the moon. As this was a top-secret trip organized by the CIA, you can imagine my surprise when I saw a woman tripping the light fantastic across my private field.
She took care not to trample my harvest, while she bounded around in pure delight. While we both were wearing space suits, I could tell that she was laughing and giggling and having a grand old time.
She seemed to know something special and I wanted to know it, too. I racked my brain for a way to communicate with her. I know Sign Language but my hands were in mittens. The ink in my pen ran up instead of down on this gravity-less orb, plus I had no paper. Just when I ran out of ideas, she turned, showing me the message emblazoned on her back, “Kitties Rock.”