can be said with re: or
Bah, like canoe. No. All this is just posture. Ok? Am I to become the ones and jingle? Thin bills and a pocket groped coin. No. Again. Ennui. Underling. Things for fingers to burrow into. A series of small mittens. Ok. Now to the kitten.
So I might actually become one of those people–the ones who talk their animals into childlike status. The ones who post ridiculous photos of their pets in the bathtub wearing newly minted angry eyes and a hat to keep their ears dry. So his name is Crockett and his mom’s name is Nepenthe. Shannon and I came to live with them by accident. Well, that’s not entirely true, but we weren’t planning on them. The boy is nearing on the 5 month mark and his mom is probably nearing 2 years old. They’ve filled out our house, especially after we lost poor Grace, who’d reached only a touch of the fame of her namesake on the Daily Squee.
So in the coming months there may well be photos and some slight gushing about adorableness and other things that may be uncomfortable and awkward. Or I’ll just hit and hint at it. And post videos narrated in horrifying accents. Or I won’t.
It’s sunny out and almost fall. I have yet to watch a full football game. And the boy cat pounces at our feet like a coyote when we move them under the covers.