Wee Angus relaxes.
Thought I’d throw in a shot of wee Angus. I still call him that, though his feet have gotten so large I doubt he’ll be ‘wee’ anything much longer. Is it true what they say about the size of a cat’s foot being relative to the size of his… body?

NO, I am not keeping him. I don’t want a cat. Not a cat person. Don’t even like ‘em. It’s just that nobody has come to the door requesting a kitten, that’s all. Oh, the little girl. Well, on her third trip over I gave her a slip of paper with my name and both numbers and told her to have her Mom call me. Nada. Yesterday when she came back, friend in tow, I told her Angus wasn’t up for adoption anymore. She is rude and too curious for her own damned good and asked if she can have my kushballs. Please! She’s worse than an AssRobian™ any day. At least Dogette doesn’t have to maintain civil discourse with them.

In truth, I was completely nonplussed in the face of rude girl and her plump, sweaty friend. Children have changed so drastically since I was one that I find it difficult to interact with them. Forty years ago my mother beat me mercilessly just for going into a neighbor’s house, God Bless her soul. That woman knew how to relate to kids. I couldn’t sit/stand/urinate for a week, but I was respectful.*

ANYway, Angus didn’t have the pleasure of seeing the roofers on our neighbor’s house, but the silly dogs did. What drama queens! I must give her credit, Bree’s first maneuver aimed at repulsing the roofer horde was inspired, if not original: run aimlessly back and forth, barking at full volume.
For some reason that failed to repel the laughing illegal aliens/roofers, so she rounded up Zoe and coagulated together with me as a pack. Never go against the pack again, Fredo.

She followed that up with a classic weenie move… When all else fails, we hide behind a chair. A see-through chair, so we may see the enemy as he approaches. I’m sure Davy Crockett scrambled to the highest parapet in the Alamo so that he might see Santa Anna’s troops approaching as well.

Davy would have been so disappointed.

*I love my Mom and miss her every day. The belt didn’t hurt that bad. It was the buckle. Just kidding! Geez!