My desk is a little cluttered. Nail clippers? Check. Ye Holy Packers mug? Check. Advil? Check. USB-to-whatever adapters? Check. TARDIS console and knocked over Cyberman? Check. Cat with a buzz cut?
Check. Good night, little fat feral cat. Don’t drink my mug full of watered-down pomegranate lemonade, please. It won’t help with the fat part. Trust me, I know of what I speak.… Read more
Today was a beautiful day, and Little E and I were running some errands in Fort Smith, so we grabbed a bite to eat and took our food to one of the covered picnic tables at Carol Ann Cross Park. Almost as soon as we got there and started to dig in, we had company.
Evidently, folks ignore the “don’t feed the geese and ducks” rule with regularity, because these freeloaders showed up expecting some free lunch. They stuck around the whole time we ate, politely waiting. They really quacked me up.
How do you solve a problem like Maria? Well, when the poor kitty gets so tubby that she can no longer effectively clean herself, and a killer summer is just around the corner, you get her a buzz cut.
She’s having a really hard time getting over the anesthetic – she’s reverted to being feral, more or less. Seems like she should be out from under the drugs by now, but she’s still not herself. I don’t know if she partook of the kitty equivalent of the brown acid, or if it’s just wounded pride at this point. She’s very sleek and soft, on those rare occasions when she’ll allow herself to be petted. Right now, the only one she’s allowing to have any contact with her is me. No other kitties and no other humans. I’m a little worried about her.
I’d planned to make this a whole week of posts about various creative endeavours I’ve been involved in, but this very strange bout of kitty behavior has thrown a bit of a spanner in the works. Sorry for the lame post today; we’ll try to resume normal programming tomorrow. In the meantime, I can offer up my TV production history section or my packaging design portfolio as consolation prizes.… Read more
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