I still feel as though I've lost my voice, but I'm going to try to say something nice here anyway.
I'm waiting for something to occur to me. I'm waiting... Waiting... waiting...
Nothing.
So, Blitz decided it's a hazard to sit under my chair. I liked having him within reach, but it was awful getting up and realizing that when I moved the chair, I inadvertently whacked the kitten who'd been sitting under there waiting for me to be done. I also worried the chair would collapse some day and all I'd have left is a furry pancake of a kitty.
Now, he's sitting about five feet away on the floor. He's safe from evil chair legs, but I can't reach him to pet him when I'm thinking. The ideal workspace would have a warmed platform to the left of the keyboard where a cat could lie within reach of much needed petting.
Petting is good for a human. It makes us live longer, reduces the potential of a heart attack. (That was in some study I read recently. I love studies like that.) It's also good for a person who feels like she's lost her voice.
For Christmas, I got the cats one of those snuggly cat beds. When Nick put it on his head, he reminded me of Johnny Carson in the turban doing Carnac the Magnificent. I know that makes me old, but I still miss Johnny Carson.
Did you watch it? Did you remember the originals? I know, the references are out of date, but did you see that thing on his head? It was a cat bed with bling. That's the kind of cat bed I bought the cats for Christmas, all plushy and cozy. Without the bling, though.
I wanted to crawl into it. I did. It wasn't big enough.
I wanted a hat like that. It wasn't small enough.
The cats won't have a thing to do with it. When we put Seth down into it, he snuggled in for about five minutes then got out and shook himself as if we'd asked him to sit in an iron box for an hour. What an inconvenience, he seemed to say. Then, when I put the thing in my lap as I sat on the couch, he chose Mike's lap instead, even if Mike had a laptop hogging most of it.
The thing got a little attention after Nick put it on his head, then took it off and sat on it for a while, but only a cursory sniff. Seth likes how his teenage boy smells. Then, he sat down on one of the flattened pillows instead, you know, one of the pillows that smells like wet dog.
Blitz?
Blitz claws his way out immediately if I set him down onto it. It's as if he's trying to escape an iron box full of nails.
What the hell?
I should put it on the couch under the furry blankets for a month. Then, maybe it will stink enough like wet dog that someone will snuggle up with it. Or maybe I should do some alterations and wear it on my head.
Thank you for listening, jb
I'm waiting for something to occur to me. I'm waiting... Waiting... waiting...
Nothing.
So, Blitz decided it's a hazard to sit under my chair. I liked having him within reach, but it was awful getting up and realizing that when I moved the chair, I inadvertently whacked the kitten who'd been sitting under there waiting for me to be done. I also worried the chair would collapse some day and all I'd have left is a furry pancake of a kitty.
Now, he's sitting about five feet away on the floor. He's safe from evil chair legs, but I can't reach him to pet him when I'm thinking. The ideal workspace would have a warmed platform to the left of the keyboard where a cat could lie within reach of much needed petting.
Petting is good for a human. It makes us live longer, reduces the potential of a heart attack. (That was in some study I read recently. I love studies like that.) It's also good for a person who feels like she's lost her voice.
For Christmas, I got the cats one of those snuggly cat beds. When Nick put it on his head, he reminded me of Johnny Carson in the turban doing Carnac the Magnificent. I know that makes me old, but I still miss Johnny Carson.
Did you watch it? Did you remember the originals? I know, the references are out of date, but did you see that thing on his head? It was a cat bed with bling. That's the kind of cat bed I bought the cats for Christmas, all plushy and cozy. Without the bling, though.
I wanted to crawl into it. I did. It wasn't big enough.
I wanted a hat like that. It wasn't small enough.
The cats won't have a thing to do with it. When we put Seth down into it, he snuggled in for about five minutes then got out and shook himself as if we'd asked him to sit in an iron box for an hour. What an inconvenience, he seemed to say. Then, when I put the thing in my lap as I sat on the couch, he chose Mike's lap instead, even if Mike had a laptop hogging most of it.
The thing got a little attention after Nick put it on his head, then took it off and sat on it for a while, but only a cursory sniff. Seth likes how his teenage boy smells. Then, he sat down on one of the flattened pillows instead, you know, one of the pillows that smells like wet dog.
Blitz?
Blitz claws his way out immediately if I set him down onto it. It's as if he's trying to escape an iron box full of nails.
What the hell?
I should put it on the couch under the furry blankets for a month. Then, maybe it will stink enough like wet dog that someone will snuggle up with it. Or maybe I should do some alterations and wear it on my head.
Thank you for listening, jb
No comments:
Post a Comment