From 2009, whilst I prepare for a public reading tonight. The venue holds five, I believe, and so I shall be forced to read while sitting sitting on someone's lap. Cheers!
Dolly “Gee” Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers, embraces the changing of the seasons.
Have you met? Dolly Gee, aka Dali G, aka Kitty! Get Down! is a long-haired Siamese mix of some sort, a cross-eyed, blue-eyed cat with gum disease.
She came that way. “She appears to have a bit of gingivitis,” I believe the Humane Society’s statement was.
Ah, well, so she’s had some troubles. Could happen to anyone.
Of course, it’s not until Dolly fixes her crossed, bright-blue eyes on your face – one on your eye, one on your nose – and begins her monologue that you realize she’s got, like, a total of four teeth.
Apparently, gingivitis is not to be trifled with.
Dolly’s been through a lot in her short little life and telling you about it is one of her pleasures. Her shiny black lips part, join, and part again over tiny, sharp teeth. Dolly no doubt thinks her stories are fabulous; and when she’s going on and on about whatever it is she’s saying, I can’t look away.
The fact that she has only four teeth and still manages to be quite attractive? Not everyone can pull that look off.
You’d think there’d be more to say about Dolly Gee, but you’d be wrong. Aside from her penchant for laying flat on her back, staring at you whilst upside down, and her belief that one should snack, all day, every day, there’s not much else to her, unlike Liza Bean, who, last I heard, is working with David Gilmour on some experimental music due to be released around the holidays.
No. Dolly Gee’s a good cat, a neat cat, a cat with all four paws on the ground – and a cat now taking up a quarter of my half of the bed.
There’s been an invasion of sorts.
Liza “Bean” Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys), being the clever, tiny being that she is, is on the bed year-round, snugged into the space behind Willie’s knees.
But Dolly? Dolly Gee’s long-haired cat-ness does not allow for year-round coddling. She’ll keep her distance, thank you, and lays during the spring and summer months with her belly exposed to the electric fan.
But ladies and gentlemen, the seasons done changed; and with that change has come the crowding of the bed.
Let’s put it this way: If the bed were a clock, I’d be sleeping between 9:00 and 12:00.
I have it coming, though, don’t I? This is what happens when you let cats into your house.
Rats. I’m going to need to have my legs removed below the knee. There simply isn’t room for them.
Dolly “Gee” Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers, embraces the changing of the seasons.
Have you met? Dolly Gee, aka Dali G, aka Kitty! Get Down! is a long-haired Siamese mix of some sort, a cross-eyed, blue-eyed cat with gum disease.
She came that way. “She appears to have a bit of gingivitis,” I believe the Humane Society’s statement was.
Ah, well, so she’s had some troubles. Could happen to anyone.
Of course, it’s not until Dolly fixes her crossed, bright-blue eyes on your face – one on your eye, one on your nose – and begins her monologue that you realize she’s got, like, a total of four teeth.
Apparently, gingivitis is not to be trifled with.
Dolly’s been through a lot in her short little life and telling you about it is one of her pleasures. Her shiny black lips part, join, and part again over tiny, sharp teeth. Dolly no doubt thinks her stories are fabulous; and when she’s going on and on about whatever it is she’s saying, I can’t look away.
The fact that she has only four teeth and still manages to be quite attractive? Not everyone can pull that look off.
You’d think there’d be more to say about Dolly Gee, but you’d be wrong. Aside from her penchant for laying flat on her back, staring at you whilst upside down, and her belief that one should snack, all day, every day, there’s not much else to her, unlike Liza Bean, who, last I heard, is working with David Gilmour on some experimental music due to be released around the holidays.
No. Dolly Gee’s a good cat, a neat cat, a cat with all four paws on the ground – and a cat now taking up a quarter of my half of the bed.
There’s been an invasion of sorts.
Liza “Bean” Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys), being the clever, tiny being that she is, is on the bed year-round, snugged into the space behind Willie’s knees.
But Dolly? Dolly Gee’s long-haired cat-ness does not allow for year-round coddling. She’ll keep her distance, thank you, and lays during the spring and summer months with her belly exposed to the electric fan.
But ladies and gentlemen, the seasons done changed; and with that change has come the crowding of the bed.
Let’s put it this way: If the bed were a clock, I’d be sleeping between 9:00 and 12:00.
I have it coming, though, don’t I? This is what happens when you let cats into your house.
Rats. I’m going to need to have my legs removed below the knee. There simply isn’t room for them.
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11 comments:
Kitties quietly and benevolently rule the world.
Looks like you're going to have to learn how to sleep in the fetal position! :-)
Oh well, she takes up space, but she adds warmth, so maybe it all balances out.
Hari OM
...yup...but take it from one who knows, you'll miss it when they are gone..... just sayin'
Happy readings! YAM xx
What on earth are you complaining about....she lets you in the bed doesn't she? You get a corner of the covers don't you? That's a very generous cat you've got there.
The cats are certainly better behaved than the lout who commented just before me. (If it's still there.)
Maybe Willy could scooch over a smidge, save your legs...
Look on the bright side - if you get your lower legs removed, there goes 10, 15 pounds, just like that.
A reading, eh? Knock 'em out! And please, please, please let us know how it went!
Please leave your legs on! Don't give "boycottamericanwomen"-guy any victory over your good sense. And have fun at your reading tonight!
It's best to leave the bed all together and sleep in the bath - only door with a lock on it
You are blessed, Pearl.
We refer to cold nights as 'two cat nights'. Sadly Jazz, who radiates more heat than Chernobyl, insists on draping himself across my feet (cutting off circulation) every night. And our summer is very almost here...
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