No deal, Freddie. No deal.
Just as soon as the blog exists, blogging disaster strikes. Last night my kitty got all cut and tied and sewn back up again. The days and nights of rancid howling are over thankfully, and to celebrate I wrote the penultimate history of Edith. Well, it all went the way of Betamax when my cellphone refused to post said epic, and in a predictable twist of fate, I removed the battery today to rest the thing. POOFO! Gone. (Poofo was a keepo btw [typo + keepin' it = keepo]) The ironic thing is the reason I was resetting the phone was to install this program that would let me cut and paste the blog entry into a text message so I wouldn't lose it. Maybe that's not ironic so much as idiotic.
At any rate, my cat's fixed and it only took five years. Of course we still have yet to put the cosmo cone around her neck because we enjoy our faces and would like to keep them from being eaten off. Here's hoping the little monster lightens up a bit, cause dammit if she isn't milking this post-surgery trauma thing.
3 comments:
Little Monsters was so good!
-N
It's true, but I could never get into the peanut butter and onion sandwiches.
I'm glad to hear Edith has been fixed. Experiencing Edith in heat (when Athena was house-sitting) was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life and I'll sleep soundly knowing it won't occur again.
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