My cat is still missing. We've done some searching and some calling and some desperate shaking of bags of cat treats and he's nowhere to be found.
I'm hoping he took a detour from his daily outside hour about the backyard, maybe to the strip club just a short walk away. Yes, I live near a strip club. I live a short walk away from everything in my border casino town. I can walk to the grocery store, the baptist church, the Pizza Hut, a store that sells frilly underpants and the liquor store. (Ever wonder why the bulk of our tourists come from Utah?) Hear's to hoping my cat made a stop at the Arby's and is having trouble carrying back a sack of Arby's melts for the family.
Sob...Arby's meat is one of Booger's favorite treats!
Booger is near 12 years old. He's getting old, thin, and cranky. One of his eyeballs doesn't work properly. He hurls a lot. He's begun to spray my garage door which I clean off with bleach. He kicks a pile of litter outside of the box and then poops on top of it, but before that, he meows loudly to announce he has to take a dump. His breath smells fishy and he sticks his butt in my face when he wants me to scratch above his tail.
I may cry now.
This animal loves me and I love him and I don't know where he is!
You know it's bad because I've turned down a free ticket to go see Lynyrd Skynyrd in concert tomorrow because I won't be good company.
No one needs me to break into sobs during Free Bird.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
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