Leroy Neiman The Brooklyn Bridge

Leroy Neiman The Brooklyn BridgeLeroy Neiman Roulette IILeroy Neiman Marlin FishingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras ParadeLeroy Neiman Lights of Broadway
Gaspode wondered how you went about mating with a wolf, and what happened to you when you stopped.
Well, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that true dogs didn’t go around going mad with pleasure just because a human said something to them.
Yeah.
He growled at a pile of trash and dared it to disagree.
Part of the pile . ‘I thought you said it was safer on the hill.’
‘Not any more,’ said the cat. ‘It’sh getting too shpooky.’
Gaspode frowned. ‘You’re a cat,’ he said disapprovingly. ‘You ort to be right alongside the idea of spooky.’
‘Yeah, but that doesh’nt exhtend to having golden sparks crackling off your fur and the ground shaking the whole time. And weird voices that you think must be happening in your own head,’ said catmoved, and a feline face with a defunct fish in its mouth peered out at him. He was just about to bark half-heartedly at it, for tradition’s sake, when it spat the fish out and spoke to him. ‘Hallo, Gathpode.’ Gaspode relaxed. ‘Oh. Hallo, cat. No offence meant. Didn’t know it was you.’ ‘I hateth fisth,’ said the cat, ‘but at leasth they don’t talk back.’ Another part of the trash moved and Squeak the mouse emerged. ‘What’re you two doin’ down here?’ said Gaspode