So I said I might write about amendments. But that would require me actually learning something about the constitutional amendments, and the day is already almost over. Oops! Too late. Maybe I'll, uh, amend this post later in the month.
Advertisements was the other A word in my list of prompts. Gawd, is there ANYTHING left on the interwebs without ads? Interstitial ads, ads popping up randomly inside the article you are reading, 30 second ads you have to watch before you can see the 10 second YouTube video. So effing annoying. Sigh. Is this ad relevant to you? NO!!! Go the hell away. And all the ads that follow you around the web are just creepy. I check out sports bras on titlenine.com and then every. Single. web site that I visit shows me an ad for Title Nine sports bras. I don't need to see sports bras while I read the news about Ferguson! And if I already BOUGHT a sports bra, you really don't need to show me any more. That is. Just. DUMB.
But it just makes me mad to talk about that (could you tell?), so, while I was sitting on the front porch with the Kattman on my lap, another A word occurred to me: affection.
The Kattman is a stray cat. He showed up about four years ago, and when I first saw him, I thought my indoor cat Tara had gotten out, because he looks a lot like her. He was kinda scruffy and scrawny, so I gave him some food. He is not stupid, so he hung around, and I kept feeding him. This way, much in the same was as The Little Prince explains, I have made myself responsible for him. I have tamed him, and he has tamed me. He is such a sweet cat. I often wonder if he had a home before he moved into my backyard, because he is so good-natured and affectionate with me. He loves nothing more than snuggling. He curls up on my lap, with my arms encircling him, and puts his forehead in the palm of my hand. Then he puts his paws around the back of my hand so he can hold me closer. Doesn't that sound like the most adorable thing?
You're right, it is. I scratch his head and pet his body, and he purrs and "makes biscuits" with his paws and drools a little. He is not careful with his claws, and often scratches me. But I really don't mind. How could I? I know he doesn't mean to be mean. He just wants to love me, and for me to love him back. And I do.
I regularly tell him how lucky I am that he found me, and how sweet he is, and what a good boy and Miezekatzenmann he is, petting him all the while and showing him AFFECTION.