The Only Man Who has Never Failed Me is My Cat

His name is Ollie and he’s not doing well these days. He looks a little stoned in this picture. Well, and every other picture, but I think he had a rough kittenhood. He is the best boyfriend ever because he:

  • Doesn’t mind staring at the wall while I’m doing something else.
  • Enjoys falling into the bathtub with me.
  • Is toilet trained.
  • Lays across me when I’m not feeling well.
  • Likes to lick my head or pat me on the head.
  • Follows me around.
  • Comes when I call him by name.
  • Is always happy to see me.
  • Likes to lay in the sun and let me rub his tummy.

Better than any boyfriend I’ve ever had. It’s hard to see him age so quickly since Stanley died.

And Now Onto Other Things!

So I spent Saturday in Burlington in the mall and on Church Street. And while I was sitting there waiting for my daughter and her friend to shop I kept hoping I’d see someone who lives around there. I looked for him everywhere, on the street, in the stores, in passing cars. And I felt such a sense of loss, only not because of the current thing. I felt like all these years since that time were spent looking for this thing that I cannot find. At first I wondered if he realized that he wore the shirt I bought him for Christmas when he got all dressed up to go out and betray me. But now that I’ve thought about this, I know I miss the town. I belong there.

And on a more serious note: While sitting in the lounge area at the mall I felt like I was in one of those news pieces about belly fat, because it was all at eye level and almost everyone had a big old pooch! Yeesh.

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