Dear Readers of Reassigned Time,
It has been quite some time since I, the Man-Kitty, have appeared on this blog. In truth, I prefer to maintain my privacy, in spite of the protestations of the person whom you know as Dr. Crazy. But friends, this kerfuffle, this hullabaloo, this outbreak of hysteria, it must stop. Don't you care about my homelife? My sanity? For I am a very important feline, and as the life partner of Dr. Crazy (in the sense that she has made a lifetime commitment to me, and I have agreed to love and cherish her in return for food and shelter) such stressful situations really do affect my daily routine, which includes napping, meowing, eating, napping some more, playing, napping, and then going to bed. Don't you understand that I am a cat? That I am not good with comforting humans, for I don't understand their barely developed emotions? And a stressed out Crazy, well, she becomes very... needy... and ... well, she may not be selfish, but I certainly am, and I don't need to be bothered with this nonsense. So I thought that I would make a rare appearance, which might prove both inspirational and distracting. This past summer, I turned three years old, which means that I am now approximately 25 in human years. It has been a rich, full life from the moment when I was rescued off the streets and then finally adopted by the generous and really quite charming Crazy. Can you imagine how tiny I was when I was rescued? Well, my foster mama sent Crazy some pictures recently that she had found on her hard drive. Here I am, eating happily, in my infancy.
Aren't I a darling wee lad? Indeed, I am. And I am no less darling today, for now, I am a glorious Man-Kitty. And as such, I say to you, "Can't we all just get along?" Or, barring that, can't people who are filled with impotent rage get their own blogs and work that stuff out there? And leave Dr. Crazy alone?
2 years ago