There are times when I am somber.
No, not sober.
I am never really sober.
If I was sober, I would be an orange sorbet.
Today, I was high on tuna fish.
Have you ever had a tuna melt from the Windsor Deli?
Put me right up there, flying high, without wings.
Spent the afternoon working and worrying about P Daddy.
She is having a difficult time.
Cats eat, sleep, use the kitty litter, play for awhile and then?
Well, P D is having senior moments.
She eats and hides.
She has what is known in the cat world as a failure to eliminate.
I grabbed a towel tonight, wrapped her in it and tried to focus on the problem.
I am now bleeding from both hands.
I noticed blood stains on the door, when Half Pint escaped out of the torture chamber.
Yes, from my delicate hands.
HP is out on the deck.
He is chasing squirrels and other night creatures.
PD is mad as hell, staring at me, with her claws extended.
Ok, so it’s 7pm.
Time for this bad ass cat mother to get changed in her pjs, and to let the cats fend for themselves.
What is, is.
The cats and humans all have their issues.
I have decided that interfering into the lives of other creatures just might not be the best idea.
Not if I want to live through the night.
Sorry Puff. You too Pinty.
I am an overprotective mother, who is rarely coherent, nor sober.
Tonight, however, I am somber.
You know what?
I have no idea what it means, to be somber.
Good night all!
May all of God’s creatures be happy tonight!