Further proof that Cleo is the Worst Cat Ever — I brought home a cheese danish this morning. I was eating it at my desk while messing with my messed-up computer. Cleo was lurking around on the desk generally causing trouble. I reached for the danish, and it was gone. I could only assume I’d finished it without realizing. What a fat-ass, I thought. Complete unconscious eating.
Later, I found half the danish under the desk with a tongue-shaped channel licked out of the cheese. Cleo was nearby, cleaning her whiskers. Danish-thieving little brat. She’s so lucky she’s cute.
Then there’s Kiki, or Keas, or Keas-a-mou, or Keas’ Pieces. Maybe she’s weird because she’s stressed about her lack of identity.
(She has issues with hemp necklace string. I’m not accusing her of anything. Just saying.)
Anyway, my daughters sometimes bitch at me about socks. “Sheri stole my socks!” “Rachel took my socks!” “No one took your socks.” “Then why are all my socks missing? Who else would have taken them?” Etc.
The other day, I heard this constant, muffled meowing, just one meow after another. From the sound, I was afraid a cat had gotten shut into a closet or something, so I started searching. When I reached Sheri’s room, I saw her cat, Kiki, sitting in the exact center of the floor (like those little girl ghost twins in The Shining), meowing around a sock she had stuffed in her mouth. She stopped the instant she saw me, and after a second, she opened her mouth and let the sock fall. Anyone who says a cat can’t look ashamed has never seen Keas get caught indulging her sock fetish. Sheri looked under her bed — Kiki’s hiding place — and found a whole pile of pilfered socks. Most were her sweaty work socks, but some were indeed her sister’s.
I will have lots of animal stories in this blog, partly because they’re frickin funny, and partly because I end up putting our pets in my books so often.
I’m trying to decide whether to self-publish actual printed books, or just e-publish. It would be nice to have a printed copy on my shelf, but does it actually help sell them? I’ll have to do some research. It’s not like I’m going to get that cardboard stand at the front of Borders. Which is now closed. I always want to just wail when I say those words. Barnes and Noble is just too far away. And I just liked our little Borders. Sniff. But not all kids have Kindles or Nooks. I sure wouldn’t put something that expensive in my son’s grubby little hands. Which is stupid, because he has an Ipod Touch and a great smart phone and a little mini computer, not to mention the Xbox, etc. But he won’t read on any of those devices. I wonder if kids will make a complete transition to paper-less reading?