My Little Golden Book of Phobias

The calico is back downstairs. My three are a) hiding b) sitting behind me and growling c) ignoring everything in that elaborate way cats have when you know they are really paying close attention but nonchalantly. This is interspersed with a series of cats circling each other with their fur all puffed up and their tails out straight.

Gawd.

The feeding ritual is quite elaborate too. Miss calico has kidney food but I guess it's kinda icky so I mix it with Fancy Feast which, according to my vet is the equivalent of kitty crack. My darlings are all on diets so they're getting special diet food which they inhale (except for Lola). Then Hugo and Lupine crowd Lola eyeing her slow progress. As if. They are starving. Good lord, as my mother would say.

November is over. On to the end of the year with tacky lights, ornaments and snowmen made of styrofoam. With scarves.

Gack.