Tonight, little ghouls and ninja turtles and Groots and Elsas will descend upon your doorstep demanding confections. Next month, the leader of the free world will pardon a turkey. And within the span of seven magical days, we’ve got the pleasures of National Cat Day, All Saints’ Day, All Souls’ Day, and the silencing of […]
People, of which I am one, make assumptions about kittens. They say kittens are a blank slate. They say kittens have moldable personalities. People say a lot of things.
It’s a ceaseless source of shame that it’s easier to be patient with cats than with people. I wish this weren’t so. I hope the cats are making me a better human. But it is true.
In the immortal words of Tom Petty, “some days are diamonds; some days are rocks.” And some months are ossified turds.* September, you thieving, grieving month, we’re looking at you.
People say that Labor Day marks the end of summer. People say that white shoes are not okay after said day. People say a lot of things. But if you’ve had the kind of August our cats have had, you’re still sloshing white espadrilles through the endless summer stew.