Tuesday, September 30

Cats, cats, cats.

Our block is owned by a couple dozen friendly cats. Friendly, that is, in that they allow us to buy these cantankerous old houses and keep them warm in the winter and cool in the summer. They allow us to feed them, pet them on occasion, and haul their screaming asses to the vet once a year for shots, peeks into their orifi, and pills. They allow us to have a margin of bed to sleep on. We get to buy designer input from the vet by the 20-pound bag (no grocery store tripe for these prima donnas) and then clean the output from the small plastic box we fill with purchased sand. We wrap the output up in plastic bags and carry out to the larger rolling plastic box, which we pay someone else to come empty. 

We are owned by two cats. Our ndn's are owned by four. Our back door neighbor, who doesn't like cats at all, belongs to three. 

I was running through our BR yesterday and saw through the window the cat who owns the house next door taking a teensy cat nap on our outdoor steps. (The pic is framed by venetian blinds and window panes.) Aww, aren't we glad to be owned by them?


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