I was really psyched because I have really missed him — we all have. So when I got home (I’ve been doing some consulting North of town) I was ready to kill the fatted can of tuna and hoped that I wouldn’t cry when he was glad to see me.
Duh! What was I thinking? I’ve had cats all my life…
He was on the back of the couch looking a bit thinner (not hard at 15+ pounds) but no worse for wear and tear. It must help to be the biggest S.O.B. in the valley, claws or no claws. But was he glad to see me? You already know the answer to that, don’t you?
I got about three beats of disinterested stare followed by a resumption of unfocused disinterested stare out the window. ba-dum. That’s how much you were missed hu-man.
Oh yeah, he’s a cat. What was I expecting?
Anyway, we’re all happy again and Bruce even came over later and made bread on my lap while giving me squinty eyes. So maybe he is glad to be back. In a cat sort of way.
Thank you for the good thoughts and messages, everybody!
]]>It hasn’t really sunk in with Ian yet, largely because Bruce is fairly reclusive. His idea of being social is sitting on the other end of the couch while ignoring you. Sigh.
]]>It’s worth a shot!
[2 minutes later:] Yep, backing off to v. 2.0.14 allows me to publish and edit posts again. I’ll wait for v. 2.0.16.
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