You supply the reading. I'll supply the writing. |
Cricket...my cat...and I had to have a long chat today. I told him I'm tired of finding Christmas tree ornaments all around the house. He looked at me like he didn't know what the Hell I was talking about. He even tried to give me his adorable..."How could you even suspect this little wiskered cutie" look. I wasn't going to fall for that one...seven times in the same day. I told him that I suspected him because...from floor level to exactly cat stretching height...the tree is mysteriously ornament-free. His only defence was to stare at my accusing finger that I shook in his face...making him go momentarily cross-eyed. He knows I can't stay mad at a crossed-eyed little wiskered cutie for too long. Damn he's good. I had a wierd dream the other night. Burl Ives was in it. I remember he seemed kinda down...so I asked him..."Why so glum Burl?"...He said it had something to do with him being dead since 1995...he hasn't been feeling very holly jolly since then. I then asked if he's been resting in peace...to which he replied that he's been very busy...appearing in lots of people's dreams just lately. It all got kinda fuzzy from then on...like dreams tend to do...except for the end...when Burl yelled at me ..."Don't choose the mice!"..."DON'T CHOOSE THE MICE!" I must remember to ask Cricket what he thinks that meant. I gotta go...I hear the tinkling of Christmas ornaments being pushed down stairs. Merry Christmas everyone. |