Tillie is back on double double secret probation. She had a “hissy” and scratched me up good. Meanwhile, Peas is a cow eating my grass. Colleen thinks grass is good for cats. And she thinks Tillie is a “fraidy cat.” Maybe, (my wife is always right), Tillie got spooked when I started to carry her? She’s docile and timid this morning. I’m still scratching (pun) my head to figure, do I have a psycho cat? Aha! I might change her name to “PC.” Alas, that would be to close to “Peas.” The wound? It was superficial and looks worse than it feels.
Note: I post in advance. So, to make this – not – a cliffhanger, Tillie has recovered. My wounds are healing. Tillie has a sweet disposition unless you get her riled. My bad. We are communicating. I thought I spoke cat. I don’t. My skin is healing. My relationship with Tillie is mending. It’s all good… so far. And yes, that’s rain on the window.
Note note: Current – the scar is permanent on my wrist – a reminder. The sisters – Maine coon cats, female, and large – have decided to pick on and attack Peas, randomly, consistently, and with malice. Why can’t we all get along? … because I cannot help but kick the can.
Like me, David is left handed. He was ambiguous as a kid. His sister Jules was right handed immediately. She would patiently transfer the crayon to her right hand. David would use either hand. Like Da Vinci, David painted his hand – his right hand. It makes sense he used the brush in his left hand while he used the right as his model. He worked for a summer in Brownsville working on a community mural project. I went to the opening. I wonder if the mural is still there? if you should see it, that right hand painted on the wall is that of the artist himself.