Last week I had to put Sneaker to sleep. It was time, and I am surprisingly not devastated. I think I had plenty of time to prepare for this. He’d been off for a while.
While in line to pay for the blood test that proved to be his death sentence, a woman walked in with a TWO WEEK OLD kitten. I have never seen a cat so small. It was so tiny it almost wasn’t even cute. That’s the way I feel about children. When they are brand new, they are freakishly unable to contribute anything. I have a friend who’s wife recently had a baby. I went over to see the new one and held it. She was sweet and interesting looking. Her eyes stayed closed and she made weird faces in which every muscle would scrunch up simultaneously. While I was there she cried little and pooped once. She didn’t tell any jokes, she didn’t make us any snacks, she didn’t read us a story. She just laid there- making me nervous about her soft spot.
This kitten was so helpless but in it, I see great potential for him to be adorable. I of course held it the moment the woman walked in with him. He snuggled.
I think I’ll name him Niles. Or Otto. Or Jeeves. Or Peeve.
IF I decide to take him.
I know it sounds like a forgone conclusion, but it’s not. I was able to get rid of Sneaker’s litter box, which is fantastic. And kittens can be demanding. The scratch on furniture and the have these hilarious bursts of energy. I love those bursts, but not at 2 A.M. I know one day I will get a kitten, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet. My heart is ready but it’s the rest of me I’m worried about. Little man will be ready in about a week and a half. Leon seems lonely and is getting on my nerves with his constant chatter and new found insatiable passion for swirling around my ankles. What do you think? New kitten in two weeks or will I deny it this go around?
Last night I had a dream that Ashton Krutcher was staying at my house because his roommate had kicked him out. Apparently I was forcing him to have sex with me while he was staying with me. My boss (who isn’t really my boss but rather I woman I’ve never met) got on to me at work about it and I WENT OFF. She was telling me how wrong it was of me to force this young man to sleep with me against his will. I gave a long speech about being almost 40 and him being fine and how if I were Carrie Bradshaw we wouldn’t be having this argument. I had my finger in her face, yelling articulately. In the end, I won the argument but later learned that Ashton had ASKED HER to confront me.
When did my dreams turn against me like this? This was an NBC version of the events named above, aside from extreme profanity on my end. In this dream I was humiliated and angry. I thought in dreams you got to be whatever you wanted. Do I really want to be the matriarch of the sex-slave industry? Jeez.
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