Grouch

I'm trying to sleep in after a week of 05:20AM starts, and late nights watching the Toronto Maple Leafs trying to zero in on the Stanley Cup... and boozing while watching the games.

08:30AM, Cleo pokes me "Get up!"

"Cleo, lay down!"

Poke poke.

*groan*... Cleo washes my nose.

18 pound Velvet gets into the act ..."Merrow!" (Good Morning!) She sits on my face.

I get her off, try to get out of bed and can't put my feet on the floor, because Bella is grooming her perfect body on the rug. The longhair is doing some serious work here, so I wait.

Then I spot Tippy on my dresser. Gorgeous Classic Marmalade Brown Tabby boy. We're talking "best in show, non ped" here. TV commercial quality. Little bugger is camera shy, so I don't have any good shots of him. Trust me. Tom Sellick.

I get the birds up, they are hurling insults at me for sleeping in. "Cheep Cheep!"

"Shut up!"

"Cheep Cheep Cheep!!!"

"Shut the (explicative deleted) up!"

The turtles are going wild wanting to go outside for the summer. ET (17 year old boy Box Turtle) is trying to boink Pickles (45 year old female). She's having none of it. Besides, he's going at the wrong end. Grouch (75 year old male... yes, 75) looks on with disdain.

Turns out Cleo wasn't really hungry, and Bella has trashed the living room blinds. Tippy nearly trips me on the way to the kitchen for some juice. He really loves me!

'nother day in the nuthouse.

Copyright © Bill Mason
May 28, 2002