"What," you may ask, "Would bring such a sweet family to such an untimely demise?" Well, this....
a stray cat.Lines have been drawn in the sand.
Mr. Grumpy Britches here has taken a firm stand on the side of "I don't like cats. Don't touch it. Don't look at it. Don't let it breathe the air."
He has firm opposition from Mr. I'm Going to Run for President on the Platform that Cats Are Great and We ALL Need to Be Nice To It.
While he has refrained from feeding it, he has not been able to keep his hands off of it, build it little beds, and try to get it to follow him around.His running mate, Miss This is MY Cat, has brought it upon herself to change her wardrobe over and over and over during the day for the pure enjoyment of the cat.
"Do you think the cat will like my shirt?"This is a shot of the President of Cat Haters of America Club, seated upon his perch atop the truck (should the thing really turn into a lion -- as predicted -- and decide to eat us alive).
He watched it stretch out in our mulch and declared, "Vicious...just vicious." He was busy rounding up the neighborhood kids to form a posse to run this savage beast out of our yard once and for all until the neighbor kid, Tyler, acted like he was going to kick it. At which point, Mr. Wishy-Washy turned to me and said, "It's not so bad. Maybe we could name it Butterball."
