SPAZ HAS GONE CRACKERS

Shara, over at My Deal of the Day,
suggested that I submit this photo of Spaz to Stuff on My Cat.

I did. Thanks, Shara.

I've had some strange animals live with me through the years, but Spaz is in a class of her own. She slaps me awake every morning when she's ready for breakfast. At the end of the night, as I go about the house shutting of the lights, Spaz grabs a quick drink, makes a trip to the litter box, and makes a mad dash for the bedroom to secure her side of the bed. I'm use to the left side but have grown weary arguing with her.

When we have a spat, Spaz shakes her head violently, screaming like a rabbit caught in the talons of a barn owl. She'll stomp off, only to return when she's hungry again.

One morning I found her stuck in a large vase with her tail and hind legs stretched toward the ceiling. She never made a sound. I think she was embarrassed.

Another time, when I was repairing the flush mechanism on the toilet, she dove into the open tank. I found her clutching the rim, eyes wide, soaked from the neck down.

Maybe I should have flushed.