Life With A Troublesome Cat
Small Black Furry sits next to me. “You continue to write about that annoying dog. When do I get a column? You know,” she sniffs, “when you aren’t looking” (oh, but I was!) “dog barks at me and, yes, even chases me. Oh, well, I do run and mostly hiss but she couldn’t catch me in a month of Sundays.” I sigh for I know a column is indeed overdue but, dear Gloria, what’s to be said? Coming up on the end of five years together, I don’t think either of us has changed much. All right, agreed, you haven’t bitten me since . . . well, it’s been a long time since ...