Here is Catherine attacking her nemesis/favorite plaything, Black Shoelace:
Just now I made the mistake of thinking that Catherine and I could play with Black Shoelace for a few minutes and then call it a night. When we'd finished (I thought), I patted her on the head and went upstairs. After 15 minutes of pathetic mewing, I came back down to discover her waiting next to the shelf where Black Shoelace lives when she's not
In non-cat-related news, G and I went to a children's book fair this weekend. It was on the campus of a community college where I took classes way back in the day, which made me feel hideously old. G's favorite part was the Wild Animal Arena, where she got to see a show with a red-tailed hawk, a serval cat, and a few other unusual creatures. My favorite part was the moment when G while watching one of the animal handlers syringe-feed a baby ground squirrel, asked, "It has rabies, doesn't it?" I see all my warnings about not playing with squirrels at the park have taken root.
In addition to the wild animals, we watched some dance performances, ate churros, visited the bounce house; oh, yes, and bought two books: A Squirrel's Tale and The Great History Search. I cannot listen to G read the squirrel book out loud without snickering because it's full of lines like "Mr. Owl, have you seen my nuts?" and "I can't find my nuts anywhere!"
Secretly, I am still twelve. But then aren't we all?
Today we went to see Open Season, which I was not expecting to like very much. First, I've seen my fill of animated movies about clueless animals in and out of the wild over the last couple of years (Madagascar, The Wild, Over the Hedge, etc.). Also, we were seeing it at the movie theater where we saw Superman Returns the day before P died, and I still get upset every time I go there. But, this movie was surprisingly funny, and I ended up enjoying myself after all. Yay for that.