Mercy for Marigold
“I’m at the emergency vet with Marigold.” “She’s declining.”
1 Comment
Autumn is in the eyes of the beholder. Is it homework, or cardigans with pockets big enough to carry kittens? Is it decay, or farm stands selling warty gourds with googly eyes? Is it the last belch of the year, or a belated beginning?
Let it never be said that May is monotone. Stuff went down this past month, kittens. Billy Ray Cyrus returned to the radio, achy-breaking all of our ears if not our spirits. The President of the United States of America presented a very large trophy to a very large man at the Grand Sumo tournament. […]
I know what you’re thinking; all cats are important. You are, as usual, right. (How do you do that?) But track with me and you’ll agree: some cats are exceptional at being important.
We came. We marched fourth. We marched thirty-first, even. And now, we shall April.