It's like I'm a werewolf or something.
I've been cat-less these past 2 years since the demise of my beloved Scamp, and it's been rough. His old age and my transition into middle-age was hard on us both and I'm still dealing with the latter. The knees are not doing so well and I've been reluctant to commit to a kitty because, among other things, it would require more hauling.
With a second floor apartment the haul factor is significant. I already haul my own food and big bags of birdseed for the wild birds and a cat would mean adding big bags of cat litter, cat food tins and bags of dry food. Then there is the haul down to the garbage. And feeding and cleaning in between.
Yet I get these great urges to run out and get a kitty, or young cat. That's the werewolf going wild for a feline companion. It rages up and takes over for a few days and then I become 'normal' again. This weekend there was another flare (not unlike the solar electromagnetic flare happening at the same time... hmmm); only my impending trip kept me in control.
The time nears!
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2 comments:
Meow,meow, meow, meow, meow, meow,meow.
Love, Sally and Bee
(Translation- please get a kitty, Mary. You need one and one needs you.)
Grace is right - there's a kitty out there who needs you! And although the kitty will require extra hauling and extra work, they'll more than make up for it with their affection.
Scamp was adorable, by the way.
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