My cats are definitely driving me closer and closer to the poor house (that reminds me of Dickens: I'm imagining myself in the poor house, dirty and overworked, teeth falling out, hair matted, volminous skirt tattered and worn, while Sam and Max sit on freshly fluffed red satin pillows eating freshly prepared fine cuts of meat).
It's just, they absolutely adore Weruva. And how can I deprive them of such health and happiness?
Don't forget to throw a coin in my cup as you pass me by...
No comments:
Post a Comment