Read Some Stewf

New cat. New chair.

This is the second time in a year that I've taken in this cat without ID. The first time I sent her off with a collar that said "please tag me or someone else will". She disappeared for a few weeks but then returned last week to hang around in the parking lot behind our building, missing my collar, looking quite scrawny and wanting food.

Perhaps she has a home but is always taking her collar off. Will hang on to her for another week for the owner. If no one claims her it's off to the vet for a checkup and spaying. Then perhaps she can live with me and lounge on the new Tirup chair anytime she likes.

Alan Alda is a birder

“Trading 1 Bird Feeder for Rotisserie Chicken and Other Foods”

The marvelous Miss Martha has deemed this week “Birthday Princess Week”. I've received copious presents — certainly more than I am due. The latest of which was this delightful birdfeeder. Unfortunately I was not able to accept the gift yesterday due to my lack of presence on the West side of the Bay.

That was a mistake. Martha warned me that her cat could use the Internets and that if I did not take the feeder right away he would post it on Craigslist as trade for food. I waved off that notion as poppycock. “Cats can't compute!” I said, and informed the lovely lady that I would collect the gift on the morrow.

I was wrong.

She Did It Again

Was it Confucius who said “One always wakes on the wrong side of a cat peed bed”? Or maybe it was Carl Jung, I don’t know. All I know is she did, and I’m not happy.