First of all: I’m a horrible blogger when it comes to writing every day. However, this month I’m participating in Camp National Novel Writing Month…so I am writing pretty much every day. I just don’t happen to be writing here.
Second of all: I got a kitten! Our dog, Betsy had him trapped under the porch last weekend so I went out and nabbed him. You see, and I’ve said this before, all of the cats in our backyard are feral and would rather hiss at you than pee on you if you were on fire. They have serious attitude issues given the fact that we occasionally feed them and make sure they have nice places to sleep. And for years now, I have been trying to catch a kitten to keep as my very own, except for the fact that once the kittens are old enough to run they, well…they run. And they’re wily. So I haven’t caught one ever.
Until the other weekend when the dog had one trapped and I managed to toss a towel over him. Then I immediately ran into the house with him and tamed him. Sort of. I think the poor kitten more or less resigned himself to the fact that he was caught and liked to be pet, so he stopped acting like a wild creature and snuggled into his life with me.
His name is Iron. He lives in my room with me because our dog, Moose owns the rest of the house. He gets bitey when he’s hungry, but that’s ok because when I’m hungry I feel stabby. Also, because I still suck my thumb, my arm is always bent when I sleep, so that’s where he sleeps every night. He crawls in, lays belly up and passes the frack out with me.
I’m not going to lie…I almost tossed him across the room the other morning because I’m not used to waking up with something fuzzy sleeping on me so when he moved I had a minor freak out, woke up and he more or less tumbled to the bed as I stood up ready to stomp whatever it was that was crawling on me into oblivion.
Until I realized that I’d just dropped my kitten and said kitten was really pissy with me for waking him up. He’s bitey when he doesn’t get his beauty sleep. Actually, he’s bitey all the time. But that’s ok, because I feel stabby most of the time so he and I get along just fine.