Isn't it amazing how, during the course of a single day, I can look at Carlos and melt with how cute he is, and later cuss him out for being an asshole?
I mean, he IS a cat, of course he's an asshole sometimes. But his timing! Waiting until I stagger home sore and tired from exercising, being completely underfoot while I try to hang up my wet things, begging until he gets his treats, and then continuing to be obnoxious and pesty despite anything I think he might need--food to be moistened up, litter box cleaned, himself grabbed and power-cuddled--no, nothing is helping. He's just being a dick tonight.
Sigh. I am sore and tired and did not need something else to make me crabby tonight. Good thing he's cute.
I mostly knit, sometimes crochet or cross-stitch. I read, a lot. I love cats. I love hockey, especially my no-longer-local team, the Boston Bruins. Want more? Read on.
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