Good Boy Kitty

This morning I was out on the porch having my coffee. Next door, Lili was also out on her porch having her coffee, and I saw her big gray cat saunter over and sit next to her. Lili patted his head and stroked him between his good boy ears, and good boy kitty rubbed his good boy head against her. Such a lovely, soothing and sweet sight to see on an otherwise fraught summer morning in the city; what a good boy kitty.

I don't know that gray cat's name, and that's why I say he's a good boy, because Lili also has another cat, a whitish fluffy flufferpuff whose name is "Cleo! Cleo no! Cleo, come ON. Cleo come here! Cleo what are you doing? Cleo! Cleo? Cleo. Cleo! CLEO."

Cleo don't give a fuck.

I for one am having a hard time right now, and in Cleo terms, I feel like knocking every glass off every table and peeing in your shoes. As such, I'd just like to say a sincere thanks to all the coffee, lovely neighbors, and good boy kitties out there making it possible to stay reasonably sane in Donald Trump's America.   

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