He Does Seems To Come Out Right

Sorry I’ve been quiet. Bit of a snowstorm beating a path across my brainstem. I considered curling up into a ball on the couch but I didn’t actually feel bad – just stupid, and when I say I felt stupid, I think I actually sat at my desk yesterday and stared into space. I’m not sure precisely because I was, you know, stupid. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence that sometime this week the kitten here, whom we’re now calling by the first common noun that springs to mind despite our settling on Piccolina as a Bugs Bunny-inspired moniker, has taken to waking me up by flopping down on my head, licking my hair and stabbing me with her adorably needle-like kitten claws. This is not the first time a pussycat decided to festively recoif me. You will note the kitten practices what she sees the older cats do, including sharing glasses of water with me. Water is especially delicious if I’ve taken a few sips from the cup. Pete makes faces, but he forgets he’s covered with the spit of adoring kitties. Drink up, girlies!

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