Dear Journal,
Sometimes I get so frustrated sharing my house with five cats. That’s why I vent to you, Journal. I can say whatever I want, and you never complain or call me shallow or selfish. Without saying a word, you talk me down from diving into insanity.
I’m sure I’m not the only person in the world that experiences the same types of hardships, and I’m not saying that my life is terrible because of it. It’s just that some days are better than others. That’s just the reality of cat ownership. It’s not always cat food and litter commercials. Every now and then, it’s an episode of Hoarders or My Cat from Hell.
Recently, I experienced a terrible evening. But instead of taking it out on the cats and Partner, I wrote a poem about it.
Goddamnit! Now I miss my cat.
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I love your cute poem – and the drawings of course. Yes… sometimes they can drive me up the walls. But then… today I took “my boy” to the vet because I saw he was very carefully eating and worried he could have problems with his teeth.
They sneeze and I’m scared… what should I say? I’m a cat mommy…
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Ahhh… now see how much nicer it was to write your lovely poem than to take it out on your loved ones (Partner and yes cats)? Goddamnit, I need to start writing poems.
And I’m envious of your drawing skills. I can’t even manage a stick figure. 🙂
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I have a secret to the drawing part. 😉
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Hahaha! OMG I fkn LOVE THIS TO PIECES!
For YOU, I will scan my foot-lover’s scrapbook! …eventually. Have to sneak it into work & all that y’know 😉
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HA. A foot-lover’s scrapbook. That sounds so interesting.
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You said you’d pay me a whole dolla… 😛
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My baby girl cat threw up today. And yesterday. I did not write a poem. I did, however, write an e-mail to my pot dealer using the secret phrase that indicates I need something to get me through my day. Because, really, that’s as artistic as I could get.
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I do not partake in the pot, myself, but do not judge whatever gets you through. LOL.
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I was using the sarcasm. (Mostly.)
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Your house is so full of clean lines and great paint! Seriously, it’s like you live in a cartoon or something. But very artsy. And with cats. Lots of cats.
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I draw the house like I want to imagine it. I would eat a century egg for it to always look that way.
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And now you’re showing pictures of Steven? Do you want to drown him in celebrity? Goddamnit!
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Yeah. Because the likeness is SO realistic.
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Your talent knows no bounds.
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One day I called my sister, judy, to tell her of my horrible day. I was very ill, I was about to be hospitalized for the ump-teenth time. I was depressed. I was angry.
Judy was unsympathetic.
“Do you know how I started my day?” she asked. “Mouse intestines.”
Huh?
“This morning,” she said, “I went downstairs, barefoot. Izzy, (her hunter-extraordinare cat) had left a gift.
“This morning, I stepped on mouse intestines in my bare feet.”
She cheered me up. And that became my litmus test:
It’s a good day as long as I don’t start it with mouse intestines between my toes.
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Word to that!
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