Inland, Dreaming of Waves

Must be the fumes getting to me

Funny how the simplest things can become complicated and start messing with your head. I was just painting the railings in the dining room when Rufus wandered upstairs and, since I'm so lovable, wanted to be close to me. Instantly I had visions of black tabby hair permanently attached to the railings. So of course I had to barricade the area I was painting with paint supplies and a J. Jill bag. There I was squeezed between the bookshelf and the railing, surrounded by Rufus-defense devices, trying to actually get some paint onto the railings. Then I began to wonder how many coats were necessary, and Todd was no help--when he is forced to do something like paint the railings, he just does it and doesn't worry about it. Instead he suggested that I paint the cat, which, all things considered, would have been much more fun. I could have had an albino cat until I got sick of it and shaved him. And Rufus would have been an easier target for coyotes when he goes out at night to hang out with Charlie, his cross-eyed Siamese friend.

I love animals, you see.

I do. When I was six I pulled a straw out of a robin's mouth that was choking it. Then I stashed the bird (which was a baby) in a box in the garage, where our cat ate it.

All in all, I have mixed feelings about cats, but my feelings about birds are completely pure.

posted by Price of Silence @ 9:39 PM