a knitter navigates through life

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

One cat, free to a bad home.

This sinister little mutant kitten beast

woke me up at 5:44 this morning (my day off) by puking up a hairball on my home inspection report. Free to a bad home.


Eve said...

Poor, unproperly trained human. He was being polite to use an easy to dispose of piece of paper. (Like a new magazine or perhaps a bank statement.)

Jane said...

Oh, that's bad! Bring him over here - Socks and Mittens will teach him to pull your hair at 6am on Saturday mornings. Then I'll send him back.

nobbit said...

He can come live with us. He'd have four other freaks to play with who enjoy peeing on any piece of clothing left on the floor, the third book of a series when you've just finished the second, and gear bags so that you lose not only your bag which can't be put in the wash but also most of the gear in it. Cats, I tell you. I think we're all just latent masochists (of course, paired with little hairy sadists so everyone is happy).