Going to the deli makes me sad. It reminds me that I used to always bring home a slab of turkey as a special treat for Henri. He knew when I came through the door with grocery bags that it was special treat time, and heʼd hop up on the kitchen counter and dig through the bags looking for it. He was never a patient creature.
Rest in peace, little friend.
About the only normal thing these days is the cat. She eats. She poops. She licks herself. All the normal things a cat should do. Sheʼs never been very bright, so she doesnʼt know anything is wrong. The last cat was very empathetic. He knew when something was wrong, and would comfort us. If he heard Darcie cry or yelp or swear, heʼd run to her side. Now she only has me. Itʼs not the same thing.
What a cat with a tummy full of tinsel looks like.
While I appreciate Henri trying to help me fix the Atari, it would probably go faster if he wasnʼt sitting on the multimeter.
Santa dropped off a present for the Annie and Henri today. Hopefully they donʼt figure out what it is.
Henri canʼt decide if Iʼm decorating for Christmas, or filming a Police music video.
I havenʼt had Thanksgiving with relatives in 24 years. But I still have a family member who gorges himself on turkey and passes out in front of the TV.
I think this is the cat equivalent of a dog drinking all of the water from a Christmas tree stand.
Does anyone know of a good way to control feline flatulence?
Asking for Mr. Fuzzynuts over there.
I can understand Siri not knowing the word “smurgle.” But she doesnʼt know “Munchos?” Do nerds not eat junk food anymore?
It really is a miracle that I get anything done at all.
What Saturday is like, if youʼre a cat.
Also Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, September, November, and years with numbers in them.
Not exactly His Masterʼs Voice, but close enough.
This is a way better anniversary present than what I got Darcie. Oh, well. Better luck next year, Sweetie.
If you watch the video, wait till the very end to see the cat burp.
I should probably clean out my bathroom cabinet. Itʼs starting to attract vermin.
Henri isnʼt actually sleeping. He just wants me to stop reading the paper and cater to whatever his kitty desire of the moment is.
He probably just reset all of my passwords to Garfield quotes again.
He weighs like 15 pounds now. The little Barbie table inside never stood a chance.
Henri looking to the sky wondering what the hell is going on. Itʼs been 174 days since it last rained in our neighborhood, and the kitties have forgotten what rain is.
Today I left the house because the cat was being an asshole.
It may be time to re-evaluate how I rank around here.
There are so many reasons my wife puts my text messages on mute while sheʼs at work.