Howly Cat...

Copernicus is up to her old tricks again, the tricks that make me want to toss her writhing body under a bus. The problem is that here I am in CowTown AND THERE ISN'T A BUS TO BE SEEN. Anywhere.

She's stomping throughout the house like a foul-natured teenager who hasn't had enough sleep and just got dumped by his girlfriend. Seriously. This cat is majorly stompy. I'd love to grab her by the neck and force something down her throat, like maybe a happy pill or some cat treats or hell, even half a bottle of Xanax.

I've been thinking that maybe she's bored, perhaps I should go out and find her a playmate. You know, someone to keep her company at night, for her to chew on when she's in these odd moods. A confidante, a soul mate, a kitten to love and share her blanky and grow old with.

But then I realized that these were the exact same thoughts I had when I went searching for Copernicus. Oddly enough, here I am with a cat who refuses to acknowledge me except when she wants to stomp about howling.

Well, didn't I just get the short end of the stick in THAT deal.