Quote:
Originally Posted by amicus_curiae
My Last Cat (My Last Duchess)...
...I purchased one of those cardboard cat-carriers so that my caregiver could take him to the vet to have his Manhood removed.
He fought getting into the box and, once in, he destroyed the box in seconds. We captured him in, and tied him in, a bedsheet. That’s how he traveled to and from the vet. I invested in a large, hard-plastic-and-steel pet-carrier.
Please: Don’t tie your cats in bedsheets to get them into your car.
Plan ahead.
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Fabulous posts; I'm laughing and crying - really I am!
Cigarette burns...Once my precious older sister's cigarette lost some fiery ash, dropped on my little 4 year old leg just above the bony little knee (I was sitting in the red Mustang; it was 19667), and left a distinct burn. I laughed! Yes, it
Hurt. Like. Hell- (there goes old Tom Waits again) - but because I so adored her and everything she did - I remember her, "Oh
sh_it, Laurinda!" (her pet name for me) as she frantically attempted to sweep the hot ash from my leg.
I was in love with her cigarette-burn holes...they were on nearly everything she owned, those little holes with black perimeters...and now I am full-on, tears running down cheeks. Could I have kept one of those little round emblems? Or did she take them with her to the grave?
Is there anyone you love, someone you can gift a torn bit of ciggie-singed bedsheet to? Never know; that person just might sit with burnt bit of cloth grasped tightly in her hand, hold on for dear life....
Fire. 'Tis the season.