Wednesday, July 16, 2003
i speak meowese
her scabs were in the sink again. her back oozing, her blood sticking to tufts of fur. it hurts too much for her to sit down, so she's taken to haunting the bathroom counter. just watching the dripping faucet. this is my cat, barbara. walking disaster. we've had her for at least ten years. in the mornings, i speak meowese with her. i don't know what i say but i think she appreciates the company. i'm not afraid of her crusty sores or the dried blood around her neck. i just don't want to see her this way.
i'm starting to think looking like a zombie is the only way to get some peace around this house.
¶ 2:02 AM
|
her scabs were in the sink again. her back oozing, her blood sticking to tufts of fur. it hurts too much for her to sit down, so she's taken to haunting the bathroom counter. just watching the dripping faucet. this is my cat, barbara. walking disaster. we've had her for at least ten years. in the mornings, i speak meowese with her. i don't know what i say but i think she appreciates the company. i'm not afraid of her crusty sores or the dried blood around her neck. i just don't want to see her this way.
i'm starting to think looking like a zombie is the only way to get some peace around this house.
¶ 2:02 AM
|
