I’m not making this up.
We have an old cat, Loathing (used to have Fear too, but she died).
Son Wyatt just got a new cat, Roo.
Old cat hates new cat.
Old cat has been sleeping on our bed since 1994.
New cat has been sleeping with Wyatt since we got her.
Wyatt has sleep-over, new cat has nowhere to sleep.
So about 4 a.m., new cat jumps on our bed.
Old cat angry.
I wake up with a spitting, hissing catfight on my chest.
Little paws with claws are literally dancing on my chest.
You don’t wake up from a dead sleep with a catfight on your chest and merely think, “Hey, what the hell?”
You wake up and scream like a little girl, which is what I did.
Heroic wife Kim broke it up.
I look for signs all the time.
Say I drop the coffee spoon, bend down to pick it up, stand up and dent my head on the open cabinet door (I've done this many times)…doesn’t bode well for any meeting I may have later.
So this was a bad sign.
In the office, I turned on Emily's radio at 1:05, just in time to hear the National Anthem.
Soriano with the tap out to the pitcher, a Murton strike out, Lee thrown out trying to steal.
Zambrano walks the first Red on 4 pitches.
Then Adam Dunn hits one out.
Then Pat Hughes: "Adam Dunn with a monstrous home run to right center and the Reds lead three to nothing."
I find out Cubs lose 1-5.
I see Lou on tv, he's not happy - Zambrano was wild.
Oh well, we won the last 4 openers and that didn't help.
But I'm sooooo glad the season's finally here.
And soooo gonna keep the door closed tonight.