When you were a kid, did you think “getting trapped in quicksand” was something you’d realistically have to worry about throughout your life? Me, too. (Thanks a lot, Saturday morning cartoons.) Turns out we were right…but who knew the quicksand would be metaphorical?
Did you notice that we totally skipped our monthly Epilogues post for March? No? Me neither, apparently.
In this world of many creatures, we need us all. The ones who think, and the ones who feel. The ones who act, and the ones who contemplate. The ones who remember The Safety Dance, and the ones who have never danced safely. Even, and especially, the ones who do all dancing in safety orange.
June is arguably the best of months. It has the Strawberry Moon. It has the promise that you will always be a bride. It has Wonder Woman.*
Many people would benefit from your freaking out right now. The cats are not among those people.
If you have been, say, looking for some hot stuff, baby, this evening; perhaps even looking for some hot stuff, baby, tonight; this July has surely pleased you. The news was incendiary. The temperatures were ghost-peppery. And the cats were sizzling.
This post isn’t actually about Pokemon. Although it could be, and maybe it should be, if for no other reason than to rhapsodize on the Pokeworld’s cat-perfect names. (Jigglypuff, anyone?) But no. This post is about Sally.