While in the process of cleaning up the latest cat hork in the bedroom, Cleo started up with her usual whining -er, meowing. (Do all calicoes sound so annoying?) I looked up to see she wasn’t meowing at me, which is how she gets her kicks. (Yay! Dad is looking at me!) ‘Wah?’ I think to myself… Then I remembered the mirror. She was meowing at the dad in the mirror on the other side of the room. Bizarre. I wonder if she thought that there were two of me…
Also something from one of the bus poetry signs yesterday:
Untitled (unfortunately, I didn’t remember the author):
my cat licks my forhead
and it fees like
absolution
