For the next 10 days, I have agreed to look after Ex-Roomie's cats. In return, I get to borrow her car, and crash here at her place when the mood strikes me. So far, it's been lovely. I have spent a dreary, hungover (awesome wedding last night - more on the later) afternoon here in her place, playing with the cats/allowing them to sit on me while reading Craig Ferguson's bio (and I thought I was a drunk!) and listening to the constant patter of NPR in the background.
I also took a shower, which was a transcendent experience as her water pressure it so much better than mine and drank 2 beers (all at her behest, I might add). And I cooked a pizza, set off a smoke alarm and met one of her neighbors. This is great, like a mini-vacation, and a VERY welcome change of pace from my staid-feeling apartment. Anyways, I'm sure you're dying to meet the critters with which I am in command!
That fat bastard is Pippen. When Ex-Roomie used to live with me, she spent a summer in Peru, and perhaps as an in-direct result, he shit on my bed, not once, but twice. We're cool now though. I like to think he used to be a Mississippi River boat captain who drank too much in his prior life.
This is Ozzie. He's very old and frail, but probably one of the most intelligent seeming mammals I have ever encountered. In his prior life, I imagine he was a snooty food critic living in Paris. And possibly Charlie Chaplin to boot. So an you can see, I have my "work" cut out for me. I assume there will lots of poop to scoop, lots of cat food to set out and lots of reading to do. I'm looking forward to it.
