The cat next door has decided to adopt me. I generally like cats, and I'm happy for the company, but this cat is going to be the death of me. Literally.
Gracie is the kind of cat who, apparently, can't walk in a straight line. I think she would be an excellent slalom skier, if only she would try to avoid my feet instead of running underneath them every time I take a step. I can't walk anywhere without either stepping on her ("Mrroooowwwrr!") or shoving her out of the way with my legs ("Hissss!"). Walking up and down the stairs during the past week has been consistently fraught with peril.
I wish her owner would just hurry up and remember who he is already (another story--ask me about it) so I can go back to worrying about tripping over inanimate objects instead of furry, moving speed bumps.
Posted by thevieve at July 30, 2005 2:57 PM