Quarantined Species by J. F. Bone - The Venusian horgels were cute, clever, intelligent. They made perfect pets. They were lovable. – But that was the big trouble. They were much, much too lovable!
"Did you ever own a Thompson asked. Hе leaned forward, a small gray man in his late sixties, and peered at his visitor through old fashioned bifocals across the breadth of desk which separated them. The young man standing before the desk fidgeted impatiently as Thompson looked down at the interview card which read "Edward Farnsworth,–Agent, Worldwide Shows", and scratched the ears of the big Siamese cat sitting on his lap. The cat looked up with incurious blue eyes, regarded Farnsworth with a peculiarly dispassionate starе. stretched, yawned, and closed 80 his eyes again. It was perfectly apparent that the tall swarthy visitor was a matter of complete disinterest. "Now take Cato, here," Thompson continued. "He's a fine specimen of a cat. Have you owned anything like him?"
"Once," Farnsworth said. "When I went to Venus. But I don't see what this has to do with my business with you. All I want is a simple answer. Do or do I not get permission to import a pair of Venusian horgels?"
"You do not," Thompson said succinctly.
"This makes the fourth time," Farnsworth sighed. "So I'll have to go to higher authority, I suppose."
"There is no higher authority, son. This is the end of the line."
