It just seems that things have fallen into a routine of sorts. No extraordinary events of any import have happened since the last time I was here. From the point of view of the big wide world not too extraordinary.
Yeah, there have been a few days that a pipe was hit. Yeah there have been a discussion with Uncle Vladimir, the rot gut cheap ass vodka that Don drinks. There were a few stupid texts sent out and there were the usual feelings of regret that goes along with that drunken behavior.
But despite those things, life has settled into a pattern of getting up somewhere between 6:00 and 7:00 A.M. This is because of the cats.
Moo, who took up residence here in June now has a sister to help her keep her girlish figure. Her name is Shui. Yeah, my cats, my names. Living in Erie and reading over the years about certain ethnic restaurants being found with cats ready to cook in their kitchens sparked this particular twist in me. So last Thursday night Don and I were sipping his clear liquid poison out in front of the building.
At some point in time another neighbor announced that her cat Cuddles had run away yet again. According to her this was at least the second time in a week this had happened. After listening to her tale and filling in some blanks I volunteered to take the cat into my care.
The fact is after listening to some of the details she provided, I knew she was throwing the cat away. There is no way that critter could have gotten out without some assistance. So with alcohol lubricated feelings and reasoning, Cuddles became Shui.
There is not going to be any creature named fucking Cuddles in this house.
What grinds me is the world we live in today is the fact that so much is disposable. Some things are understandable to a degree. But so often living things are disposed of with a sense of impunity as being worthless or not having enough value to keep.
I know from my own experience that it's not just cats that get thrown away.
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