I read somewhere that when you meet your greatest love, you also meet your greatest fear. While I can’t exactly agree with it–all because I can’t say what or who my greatest love is–there’s my family, friends, special others, pets, passions–there is one fella that makes me worried to distraction:
This guy moved in with me without so much as a “May I?” The feral that this rascal is, he comes and goes as he pleases, and once vanished. I literally trespassed in search, but no luck. Came home three darn days later–thin and full of dust. Argh. Can’t say this sweet rascal is the one I love most, but he does give me the most headache–people can complain or call 911 to ask for help, but what’s a cat to do except suffer in silence or suffer in meows?































