One Time In Band Camp…

Once upon a time…

I was walking home from some friend’s get together. It was a short 5-6 block walk, since I knew I’d be taking a few, I walked there and walked back knowing if I drove there, I’d be lazily driving back home, no matter the toddy count. (btw a toddy is any pleasurable adult oriented drink).

One block into my walk I hear a high pitched persistent meow-meow-meow. I’m not a cat person per say. But when I bent down to see what was all the commotion about, there was this cutest little kitten meowing at me. So I bent down to pet him, or see if he had any tags so I could call the owner (was it lost? It was after all around 2 in the morning). Low and behold, when I bent down to see him he jumped on top of my shoulder. And purred. And purred. And rubbed up against the side of my head. I’m still kneeling down not knowing what to do. Waiting to see if my new-found friend will:

  1. Just jump off and go on his way home;
  2. Go cat-cujo on me and bite my ear off (please little kitten, don’t take option 2)
  3. Start meowing ever so wildly calling his cat-pack (what’s a gang of cats called anyways?) like the bitch siamese twins in 101 Dalmatians to make me look guilty of something I haven’t done, yet… (ok, kitty kitty, don’t pick option 2, OR 3, please?)
  4. Stay on my shoulder and adopt me as a new cat mommy?

BZZZZZ!!! (that’s the game show soundbite telling the audience the contestant did not pick the right answer). None of the above. I got back up, walked about 3-4 blocks with the kitty-kat warming my ear, tickling my cheek with that weird cat tongue full of rosemary twigs then suddenly started meowing again. So I bent down, he jumped off my shoulder and ran up to the nearest house. His house or the next potential adoptee, maybe my cheek didn’t taste good enough? Damn that Ivory soap.

Ooof, after my previous posts, I needed a warm and fuzzy story. What’s warmer AND fuzzier than a cute little baby kitten? Sorry, I don’t want to hear your answers… Let’s keep this one out of the gutter!


2 thoughts on “One Time In Band Camp…”

  1. That would mean you've never been to the Cirque du Soleil… it's a shame. I love clowns. Wait, does this post talk about clowns? That's like saying I prefer kittens to eating (burk) blood pudding. Why would anybody ever make pudding with boiled blood? What are we vampires? That is so vile and disgusting. But clowns? They just want to make you smile, and laugh! *sigh* I need to become a spokesperson for clowns. But Mr Blood Pudding – you are on your own, I'm sticking to CHOCOLATE pudding.


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