Woe is me …

Here it is, almost Christmas and she’s pissed at me.  I thought this was the season to be jolly!  You know, HO! HO! HO!  Fa la la la la and all that jazz!

Harumph!  All she is, is grumpy!  No Christmas spirit what so ever!

S-C-R-O-O-G-E.

She knows I need a lot of attention.  All that bull about cats being uppity and independent is just that:  BULL!!  This isn’t her first rodeo.  She’s had plenty of cats.  She knows the score.  She KNOWS what we’re like.

So I want to be petted.  So I want to be hugged.  So I want to cuddle.  So I want her to

Day 300. Little Bugger

It took me a while to become fully conscious. I’d been in a really deep sleep. You know, what I mean, don’t you? When you wake up confused. Not sure where you are. Or what time it is. Or what day it is.

When you’ve probably been snoring. Really sawing wood.

Or when you wake up drooling.

I could feel myself climbing out of my stupor. Becoming aware of my surroundings. But it was very gradual. Like slow motion.

Something was tickling my face. It was feather-light. Couldn’t figure out what it was. Because I was really still asleep. At first I just tried to brush whatever it was away. But it kept coming back. First on one cheek. Then the other. Then an eyelid. Then my nose. My forehead. My chin. It felt like a bunch of teensy tiny flies flitting

Day 6. The Continuation

As I recall, when I left off yesterday I was doomed.  Indeed I was.

A new email from my friend announced that she’d found homes for two kittens.  Just one was left; and this time she shared the whole story with me:  When the kind soul found them in that dumpster they were just days old.  He had a child with asthma, so taking them home was out of the question.  So he took them to work.  He fed them, cared for them, even made pillows for them.  But by the time a month had passed they were starting to grow and he knew he couldn’t keep them for much longer.

How Debbie (my friend) got them from him I don’t remember.  It was rather convoluted.

Anyway, we had one baby left and Debbie, who already had four cats of her own, insisted that I come and pick one up and take it to my house until a foster home was found.  Off I went to her house.

When I saw those three little butterballs tumbling unsteadily around her basement I was as good as gone.  But when Bartlett cocked his head to one side (not surprising given how heavy those ears must have been) and stared right into my eyes it was love at first sight — for