Way more than nine lives

My cat Fort was a dumpster diver in his previous life. That’s the only way to account for his survival. He must have been a fair hunter, too. He survived fights with wild animals, rain, and freezing temperatures, not to mention another “owner” (I use that term very loosely.) who booted him out before we took him in. That explains why he attacks our food whenever our backs are turned. Doesn’t matter what it is. He ate my chocolate ice cream when I had my wisdom teeth out with as much enthusiasm as he licked my Lean Cuisine tray clean yesterday. However, none of that explains his fascination with beauty products. He eats soap, chases me around trying to rub against, bite, and lick my legs when I apply lotion, and he cornered me on the bed when I was applying aromatherapy oil the other night. You’d think he’d have more common sense after surviving on the streets alone, right? How did he survive when he thinks it’s okay to eat soap??

Acne irony

You know what makes buttne suck even more? The fact that I, an avowed zit-popper, cannot see or reach any of them well enough to have the poor solace of popping them.

Wondering

Why buttne (butt +acne) is never listed as part of the aftermath of pregnancy and childbirth in ANY of the books. I can’t be the only one.

%d bloggers like this: