Saturday, May 21, 2011
I'll never die of thirst--boredom, shock, maybe--but never from lack of water.
The housekeeper is a fanatic about making sure I have bowls everywhere so if I need a drink, I won't have far to go. Sometimes, I have two bowls, one gigantic whisker-wide one and another so little, there's more on the floor than on my tongue. Of course, that's the one I pick.
I can't believe I'm on the subject of water. Jeez, talk about a slow news day. It's been so quiet lately, my opinions are suffering from neglect.
I can't even think of a joke to tell. Maybe I'll try a limerick for my pal over at WALC- claw radio - to try on his listeners, but I'd like to share them with you first.
There was a young cat from Vermouth
Whom everyone thought quite uncouth
He'd swear at the stars
Pinch the ladies in bars
With the excuse he was born in Duluth.
Oh, Lord--sorry, folks.
Let me try another one. Let me see--
There was an old cat from O'Keefe
Who was full of blarney and beef
There was always a story
About his own glory
We'd call the dogs in for relief.
Then, of course, there's the one framed in the rectory which everybody loves:
There once was a church with a cat
One day by the altar he sat
Listening to prayers in awe
Wriggling mouse in his jaw
Communion was never the same after that.
Julie has a bit of news. Her letter to the editor is being featured in The Writer magazine for this month and, she's talking to a publisher. How would you like me all wrapped up for Christmas?