Once upon a time there was a cat that loved chicken so much that he just wanted a little taste.

 

 

 

Chicken is just too delicious. Just a little snack, we are all asking. Gobble, gobble.

 

In any case, it’s been a while since I posted about the cats. It seems like just yesterday when I was posting about the cats all the time, and then life and the shop and other things wove into the way, which in some ways is great and the way it should be and for which I am tremendously thankful. Life! The shop still standing! Yesterday Naomi referred to my TWSBI 580 Iris as the “little bit clear little bit rainbow pen,” and in the spirit of generosity, I’ve been contemplating passing that name onto Philip at TWSBI so he can rename all future productions of the Iris. I’ve been eating lots of bread and chocolate. The baby has eczema so I’ve been accumulating hours of my own life vaselining and oiling and lathering her up, all her jars and tubes of emollients littered about all the rooms of the house, pinning down her arms with my knees so she doesn’t scratch. This sounds both more and less aggressive than it actually is.

 

Just thought I’d share that the cats continue on. Tuna continues on his steroids, and we are loving him as much as we can for as long as we can. He, too, is too delicious, and is it because he is so willing to be sacrificed as a snack? They are both my tasty treats. Even more delicious together. A cat soup. Every once in a while (every day? Every time I see him?) I wonder at the miracle of Tuna’s arrival, the reincarnation of our dead dog, stealing food off the table and drinking from the toilet; the one whose desire for Chicken runs deep and flows fast; the insatiable vet bills; the insatiable love.

 

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December 16, 2022 — Liz Chan

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