Inside the Glass

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Upon reading my previous post, I have come to the conclusion that it sounds awfully pretentious. That wasn't my intention at all. I must have been tired, or delusional. Most probably delusional. 
Last night I saw an open and oozing wound on Pagles' neck. Mootchie was in the proverbial dog house for hurting my baby. Mr. P went to the vet just in case he needed antibiotics so infection wouldn't set in. To my surprise, Mr. P has allergies. It wasn't a cat bite at all. (He really is MY baby). He got a steroid shot and is now busy sleeping, curled up in my lap. He lets out a sigh every once in a while if I move too much and I find it IMPOSSIBLE not to grab him up and give him a thousand kitty kisses.
I got home from work to find a glass door attached to the front entry way. I love how things just 'appear' around here, but what I love most is how unfazed we have all become to the mysterious and sometimes nonsensical 'appearances'.

Comments

  1. Inverseffect7:07 AM

    Hah! Yes. I loved the horrible door. It doesn't belong. Everytime I open the front door I crash into the glass door that wasn't there yesterday. You're going to find me with a broken neck one of these days.
    Our exchange was priceless.
    "Wow. We have a door now."
    *silence*
    "It's weird and out of place."
    "I know, right?"

    PS LOVE That shot of you! LOVE it!

    ReplyDelete

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