damn damn damn.  i said too much about the president and guns and stupid people and now i’m being punished for it.  i’m not sure who is in charge of said punishment, but they delivered this week.  on wednesday morning, my sweet gal marched out the door alone  and came back in the afternoon with a friend on four legs; four legs attached to the body of a dog.  actually, to call this critter a dog is being generous.  he’s a puppy, for pete’s sake, with floppy ears, big green eyes and absolutely no manners.  he doesn’t do his doo-da’s in the house, thank god, but he thinks cats are for chasing, all food is dog food, and the lap that i love is available to him.  i’ll admit there was a time when i thought i needed a dog to protect me from our feline femmes fatales, but we’ve worked through our differences and the canine fantasy disappeared like kibble from a dish when the puppy gets to it before the cat.  however, the gal’s interest in a dog stayed put.  it looks like he’s destined to be a member of the family,  but i swear i’m not going to let this baby dog spook me.  i was here first, and in the pecking order of our little universe, that makes me the boss.  but i’ll say this about that; if a puppy is punishment for speaking my mind, i’ll risk speaking it some more, to wit the president is a f—ing dipshit, as are all the dangerous crackers with whom he surrounds himself.  ok, i feel better now.  purr, y’all.

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