pithy, unhelpful, and generally unrelated

I just made my rounds of the blogs, posting my pithy, unhelpful, and generally unrelated comments. In my defense, I have very little to say on the subject of bear hunting, though one ran across US 17 in South East North Carolina (SENCland, as the Wilmington paper used to call it) in front of my car once. At first it looked like a big dog with osteoperosis.

Anyway, as I laid out all the comments and stories I would always think, I should put this on my blog, instead of their comments. Mostly bcause this is a pretty fair tale, and when I sit down to my blog in a few minutes, well, I GOT NUTHIN'. Oh well. It is what it is. And you're still with me, so that's encouraging.

You can't tell it , but I took about 10 minutes out for Pepe, my bizarro cat. He is more dog, really, than cat. But he can, and will, climb on window screens. Dogs can't do that. They can knock 'em out, but not climb 'em. Either way though, screen damage pisses me off. But I digress.

So Pepe (AKA The Pepster, Boy Cat, and Stop That Right Now, Dammit!) saunters across the desk. He is purring, and Pepe purring sounds like a Big Catipillar Dozer. Rrrrrr Hhh Rrrrrr Hhhh Rrrrr.... he gets up next to me, bends his neck around like he's auditioning for a part in Feline Exorcist, and bites me in my armpit. I know it's coming, he does it all the time. After gnawing my pit a minute, he emerges and starts licking my tattoo. The tongue kinda hurts, and I don't know if he's attracted to the colors or the fact that it is a peacock. Either way, it feels like he's removing it.

Rrrrrr Hhh Rrrrrr Hhhh Rrrrr.... he bops his head into my nose. I know the routine. Pepe is demanding my attention. Newspapers and laptops bring that out in him. Like I said, he's mostly dog, so I can play rough. I grabbed him up under the neck and tail using the crook of my elbows, a most undignified looking grab. I yanked him up, leaned far back in my chair, and wore him like a cat vest. A warm, loud, massively shedding cat vest. I used the palms of both hands to play his exposed side like bongos, thumpa thumpa (Rrrrrr...) thumpa. I spun in my chair like a tilt-a whirl, bouncing him and thumping him simutaneously. Rrrrrr Hhh Rrrrrr Hhhh Rrrrr.... and then WHAM! He leapt off my chest, leaving little red skid marks in his wake.

The abrupt exit made perfect sense. My wife just emerged from sleeping. And she ALWAYS has treats for cats. So, see ya, Ed, but I gotta go.

The skid marks? No problem. I understand. When you gotta get to the Pit'r Pat Ocean Explosion treats fast, well, it necessitates using the claws for traction. I walk around looking like I came in third in a fight all the time. Scarred up.

Well, there you go. That was not exactly something but not really nothing. Just like a blog should be.

Roasted & Salted, out

Ramblin' Ed