Picture me, late for baseball practice (the bane of my existence anyway), in a flurry of sweatshirt hunting madness since it’s been freezing here all week (50s with an Arctic wind), a dog who won’t get out of the car because he knows we’re leaving him behind so he hops out one side of the car and leaps in any other open door (repeat 3 times), a child who gets his foot smashed in the car door in an attempt to keep the dog out, me running on caramel corn and Ritz crackers, meanwhile there’s a stray cat dying in my front yard. If you guessed that Josh was out of town this week, you’d be right.
In case you’re of the “pictures or it didn’t happen” variety, here’s my half dead cat. I need to find a shovel .…
