Cats and dogs
Of the myriad of things I could blog about, tonight I just chose a simple topic...my furry friends.
As I'm typing this, Tom is at my feet. A few minutes ago, he tried to bite my fingers off. He was in a playful or an annoyed mood. I can't tell which one, because, after all, Tom is a cat.
Tom lays at the foot of my bed. He does so to see the incoming threat. He likes to be near me, but he's afraid to come closer because he doesn't like my two other cats because they've beat him up a few times because they get jealous if I'm petting Tom. Tom is twice their size, but Moo, Moo is just plain mean.
I call her my "junkyard cat". When I was dating the lady from the sev, Moo attacked her once when she was here.
Moo is mean.
She was rescued from outside one winter. She was the runt and she wasn't gonna make it as a kitten if I didn't grab her. Most of the other ones didn't survive that winter and those that did are long dead. Outside cats don't live long. Moo has them all beat. She remains, though, my cat. And only my cat.
The dog has a new chew toy in Fearless. He's pretty mopey. Since trying to fold me up like a taco in the bed the other day, he wants nothing to do with the bed. I bought him one of his own to sleep in. He won't come up here. But then the cat comes by and the dog and cat love each other.
The cat jumped up on me and he was soaking wet from dog slobber.
Furry pets is what you get tonight. It's better than broken friendships, church politics, politics, the church and right wing politics, and the list goes on.
As I'm typing this, Tom is at my feet. A few minutes ago, he tried to bite my fingers off. He was in a playful or an annoyed mood. I can't tell which one, because, after all, Tom is a cat.
Tom lays at the foot of my bed. He does so to see the incoming threat. He likes to be near me, but he's afraid to come closer because he doesn't like my two other cats because they've beat him up a few times because they get jealous if I'm petting Tom. Tom is twice their size, but Moo, Moo is just plain mean.
I call her my "junkyard cat". When I was dating the lady from the sev, Moo attacked her once when she was here.
Moo is mean.
She was rescued from outside one winter. She was the runt and she wasn't gonna make it as a kitten if I didn't grab her. Most of the other ones didn't survive that winter and those that did are long dead. Outside cats don't live long. Moo has them all beat. She remains, though, my cat. And only my cat.
The dog has a new chew toy in Fearless. He's pretty mopey. Since trying to fold me up like a taco in the bed the other day, he wants nothing to do with the bed. I bought him one of his own to sleep in. He won't come up here. But then the cat comes by and the dog and cat love each other.
The cat jumped up on me and he was soaking wet from dog slobber.
Furry pets is what you get tonight. It's better than broken friendships, church politics, politics, the church and right wing politics, and the list goes on.
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