Ugrowr: The Strangled Turkey Speaks
January 14th, 2005After a long days work spent bending my brain with questions of punctuation and prose, I really look forward to coming home to my cozy little one bedroom apartment. It’s humble and cluttered and has a balcony from which I can rest and relax as I watch palm trees and ginkos sway in the breeze.
And I’m wasting away again in Margaritaville.
My loyal readers may remember the 4 years I spent living in the projects. By the projects I mean government-sponsored student housing. By government-sponsored student housing I mean 10 X 12 rooms made of cinder block, smelling of mold and the b.o. of previous inhabitants, furnished with cheap pine desks hand crafted by the artisans of Cell Block A in the South Central Virginia State Penitentary.
Yes, those were the days.
So I get home today, pull in the drive, get out the car, put my key in the lock, and what’s the first thing I see when I open the door? My little baby Bella Donna Bad Girl looking up at me with, what I call, Bedroom Eyes.
Bedroom Eyes are the sleepy eyes she gives me when trying to convince me to do things like give her a kitty neck massage. With lowered lids she peers up to me, waiting, expectant.
So I get home and she’s giving my bedroom eyes. And I’m like “that’s so sweet.” And then she opens her precious little mouth…
and lets out the most ugly, blood curdling yowl known to man.
I mean It sounded like Bella was strangling a turkey as she howeled urgrowrurgrowrurgrowr!
She continued for five minutes to trail me around the house going urgrowrurgrowrurgrowrurgrowr, all the while swatting my ankles while throwing in an occasional chomp on my toes.
And this is solace that I came home to after a long day. She’s a monster, but she’s my little monster with a turkey in her throat and mischief on her mind.
Can’t wait to get up, go to work and come home tomorrow.
File this under: My Baaad Ass Kitty