When I was trying to get up the other morning, Spunk laid on my chest and made me hold my iPhone for him so he could take selfies.
To the tune of Burning Down The House by the Talking Heads:
Watch out, I get what I’m goin’ after
Cool kitty, I’m strange but you are even stranger
I’m an ordinary cat
Biting on the box
Hold tight, wait ’til the string stops wiggling
Hold tight, chew on that nasty teather
There has got to be a way
Biting on the box
Here’s a tail, pack your boxes
Time for jumpin’ on the cardboard
Dragging things over here
Close enough but not too far,
I don’t know who you are
Bitin’ boxes, more boxes, meow
All wet, hey I’m chewing on this cat’s tail
Shakedown, dreams walking in broad boxes
Three hundred, sixty five teeth marks
Biting on the box
Spunk has taken to killing napkins, making the world a safer place one napkin at a time, bet he also leaves napkin carcasses strewn all over the floor. Is it art? I finally had to retire the printout of a spreadsheet I was using as a placemat on my desk at the office after it got enough coffee dribbles and tears that I couldn’t read the various notes and phone numbers I had scribbled on it. After Bruce and I decided it was too artsy for the trash can, I hung on the wall where a picture frame once hung. While most people don’t even notice it, it’s been a toss up among the people who have noticed it whether or not it’s art. After my boss finally noticed it he asked me why I had a piece of trash hanging on the wall. Sean suggested I clip the dollar bill to it. Other people have said “Hmmm! But is it art?”
Does this sweet little kitten look like a total beast who’s racked up a $100 IOU on his kitty account for things he’s destroyed? Don’t let his angelic looks fool you — he is much too cute for comfort. The problem is, he is so cute that it’s difficult to get mad at him for destroying really nice things like new silk scarves.