The last two days I have gone home to small disasters wrought by the cats. I lost it both days, once in front of Gastric. I warned her I was going to blow and she said go ahead, so I did. I yelled and yelled. And the only cat it impacted was Gonif, my baby and most sensitive cat. I have got to learn not to lose it, especially as it concerns Mister Gonif Cat. I am sitting here at work, dreaming of moving into my new home and how many happy times the home will see and the fixated on some sad times, like when a old Gonif goes across the Rainbow Bridge (*euphemism). I remember how upset I was the last time I lost a kitty and it was not even mine, it was Jerry's late cat Sassy, who only outlived her owner by a few months. Alright I have to pull myself together. Yes, there will be sad times ahead, but, hopefully, more happy times. My cats are really my family now. Parents...gone...grandparents...gone...Aunties (and uncles)...gone. Yes, my dad's older brother is still around and just celebrated an eighty-something birthday. And his wife, my Aunt, has been good family to me...but they are in California. Cousins in Chicago, Seattle and California. Some family in the Detroit Area but since I apparently ran away from home I don't hear from them unless they need something from me, which is rare.
So, bottom line, I better learn to stifle the temper and be nicer to the cats, especially Gonif. Yelling doesn't bother Yankel and Simcha, just Gonif. The other two just look at me and seem puzzled, or stare at a visibly shaken Gonif and wonder what's up with that.
So for happier times, look to move in by Passover 2015. Seder-rific.
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