Somehow I made it through the bug, though recovery took longer than I anticipated (cue up Mick Jagger howling. What a drag it is, getting old….). Felt well enough to go out to dinner last Friday, as it was our 10th wedding anniversary. Found out my wife’s favorite steak house had closed down, so we went to Benihana instead to enjoy the art of the hibachi chef.

As usual, I found myself wondering if there is some sort of newsletter circulating, as I saw all the usual jokes, plus a couple of new ones (and observed those playing at the other stations). Saw the same act at another hibachi place a few months ago, though that particular chef had a thing about torching oil. Some flambe would have been nice Friday, but given how crowded the place was, would likely have been frowned upon by management.

Paid for it the next couple of days, feeling drained and wan, and the abdominal cramps kept cropping up through Sunday. Rested as much as I was able, and am, of course, behind in my work once more. A Wrath of God type storm pre-empted our plans to take Mom out for dinner Sunday night, so that’s our likely destination Tuesday.

Included in all this drama and mayhem is the arrival of two more occupants of the house. Our neighbor Ronnie, determined to become the neighborhood Weird Cat Lady, has convinced a couple of the neighborhood strays to call her house their home, with an eye toward abusing their trust by spiriting them away to be spayed (and frankly, this neighborhood needs a few more Weird Cat Ladies like Ronnie). Too late in one instance, and Lisa helped find homes for the kittens… including two for us.

Our ancient cat is not impressed with this turn of events, and the Power Pug Princess is mystified as why she cannot play with them yet. (Pugzilla is a sweetie, but dumber than a bag of hammers and unaware of her own strength). The only thing that will save these fluffballs from the wrath of the Dusty Old Cat will be a) her hope that they will eventually come in on her side in the occasional spirited bout of Pugby (a game the dog always wins); and b) her desire to inculcate the fluffballs into the Ways of Evil.

Yowly has spent the last 12 years trying, in a variety of insidious ways, to murder me. Her native cunning has served her well, making the attempts look like accidents, like the simple mistakes of a naive animal, but she doesn’t fool me – the sooner she gets rid of me, the sooner she’ll be able to sleep on Lisa’s face all night long, instead of having me eject her from the bedroom when I come to bed in the small hours of the morning. Thus, this picture, which sums for me the current situation at my house. I will spare you the mawkish story about a puppy and a crippled boy which was attached to this e-mail, and cut straight to the chase:

Back! Posted by Hello


  1. I have a cat. I’ve owned said cat for three years, and still have not given it a name (it seems to respond to the sound of food, yet what exactly is the word for the sound of a can-openner or a bag shaking about?). “Cat X” is friendly, clean and a sucker for attention.Introduce another feline into her enviroment (or anywhere with a two house radius), and “Cat X” goes literally bat-shit insane. Growls and hisses. I’ve awaken a number of nights to the sound of “Cat X” yowling as if being murdered or trampled upon….sitting in the window looking out at “Random Neighborhood Cat”, with all intents on trying to claw her way through the glass for the kill.She’s gonna love the bassethound puppy I’m bringing home. My mother purchased him for me for my upcoming birthday on the 11th, and I’ve yet to bring him home for fears of “Cat X”, and the fact that his ears are longer than his legs at the moment, making for awkward mobility and less chance of escape from “Cat X”‘s wrath…

  2. Giving a cat a name is something that gives comfort only to the owner. Cats know who they are; our simplistic need for labels only demonstrates that our place beneath them is justified.I’ve got four cats. If they could master the can opener, my usefulness would be at an end (imagine some dupe saying that about a supervillain, and it becomes much clearer.)

  3. “The word for the sound of a can-openner or a bag shaking about?”Why, it’s The Cat Signal, old chum.

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