New orange cat in neighborhood. I’m so excited I could scream. And the batty ladies who feed the rock cats are increasingly lulled by my collected drive-bys. Every day I inch closer. It’s like a chow advent calendar.
She finally took scissors to my poofy pants yesterday, and my suspicion re: photo opps was confirmed when out came the chicken this afternoon. Every time I helpfully arranged myself in the cookie readiness position, the hat fell off my head, necessitating lots of re-shoots. Excellent. And even if she had gone to technology to fasten it, it’s still a guaranteed win with bonus rounds of Pavlovian hairpin conditioning. It is good to be me.