Ice Ice Baby

Lixie, my 11 year old cat, comes bounding into the living room and I think, “Oh look! She’s still a kitten at heart!”

She’s making these cute kitten sounds and acting all playful around my feet.

I’ve had a rough day, so I slide off the chair and plop down on the floor next to her. “Hey kitty kitty… what’s up?”

She meows and purrs and flips onto her back and stretches her body long so I can scratch her fuzzy belly.

“There you go…” I begin to say, but the moment is short-lived. She flips back onto her feet and begins to play again.

With a…


I have applied ice to the bruises and dropped a few cubes into my over-sized drink.

Which I take to the patio.

Where I will be sleeping tonight.

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