Aside from the tech troubles I mentioned last week, and aside from the waves of hot weather we've received, there is a third Macbeth doth murder sleep in my house.
I know I've mentioned Peanut (proper name Proserpina), from time to time. She's younger and more boisterous... actually, I've compared her to a high school cheerleader: always enthusiastic, bounding about, somewhat of a bully, not much going on between the ears (sorry if I've insulted anybody, but that's been my -- albeit limited -- experience with cheerleaders).
Tiger, on the other hand, has what could best be described as astonishing manners, cat or human. He seems to be genuinely concerned that he not upset anybody. He was the ideal companion for my old kitty-girl, Shade, in her waning ears.
So, when Tiger gets rambunctious at midnight, there is no sleep to be had. He seems to have taken an instant dislike to a Barbie doll I bought at auction, yesterday. He dragged it onto the bed and started attacking her hair... then my hair... then my nose... then my sunburnt earlobe.
I seem to recall somebody once told me that cats, being low-maintenance pets, were ideal for the handicapped. Well, if you are even remotely insomniac, don't get a little devil like mine. Don't get me wrong -- I love the little fuzzballs to pieces. It's just that there are moments when I wish the pieces were smaller and strewn about.
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