I’ve been up for an hour and a half and I haven’t showered or had coffee yet. Whose cockamamie idea was it to have this indoor farm?
Last night, I bansheed home from work to feed the foster kitten, and after I was done with that I was boiling his bottle and cleaning the litter boxes and all that kind of stuff, and I rounded the corner and there was Milhous, who I keep calling Steely Dan whenever I’m yelling at him, but anyway there was Milhous Dan, poking his giant butter legs under the kitten door,
and there were the fuzzy black stick legs of the kitten, poking back.
He has been DYING to meet this kitten since it got here.
Also, last night, the sun was shining in said kitten room, and that poor sweet baby could see his little cat shadow, and he…played with this shadow. He was boxing with it. Oh, that liked to break my heart. He doesn’t have any kitten siblings to wrestle with. He’s all alone in the world. You give me that and Notre Dame and I was basically a wreck all night.
I played with him till he was sick and tired of playing. This is the only photo I took last night, because I was too busy.
Once he was asleep, I went outside with the grownups.
Is it sad that in my world, “the grownups” are cats?
Finally, this morning I was busy changing the bedding and the litter and making the formula and so on, and I left the room for HALF A SECOND to wet a washcloth, when…
He thought he was being slick. Thought if he hid in the fireplace, the furplace, like 101 Dalmatians, that I wouldn’t recognize him. Next he’ll find a little brick suit, stand very still so I won’t notice.
Careful readers will observe the kitten speck on the book. I think Milhous just wants to play with him, but he cannot. He seems so determined.
What an asshole. Why I always gotta pick the asshole cats?
Oh! But in actual news that isn’t about cats, I think I found my first start of a pear on my, you know, pear tree. As opposed to on my furnace filter or whatever, which I might have led with.
According to the neighbors who can’t abstain from telling me about my house and what to expect because they’ve all lived here 500 years, I will literally have hundreds of pears. We’ll see. Guess who’s fairly indifferent to pears. My Aunt Mary likes them. I wonder if I can ship pears to her.
I dearly wish I had anything else going on in my life but I don’t.
Catty June with quite a pear
P.S. Faithful Reader Paula sent me this cup. It’s porcelain–she didn’t send me a paper cup. Anyway it kills me. I love it. I feel very New York when I use it.
Happy to serve you,