Caterwaul

Sabé, our demon, I mean our cat, is about to hang herself with the cord to the window blinds. For the last ten minutes, she has been seeking out each object in this room she can use to annoy me. Once she finds an appropriate object, she scratches, pulls, or climbs it with her full force and vigor. She just fell off the coffee table and landed on her rump. She landed the same way earlier today, retreating from a piece of bubble wrap right off the dining room table into a chair and then onto the floor. Grace eludes this cat. She is all spunk. Or is that punk?

Now she has left the room. Maybe she’s embarrassed. Maybe she’s just mad that despite her efforts, I’ve managed to continue with this entry—the first I’ve made in over a month. Now I better go and give her some love.