I was born in 1962; you do the math. (See also: I'm too lazy to remember to update this thing regularly.) I bought my first house in the summer of 2009; I share it with four cats and with the memories of The Runt and Little Girl, who both passed away in 2011. Rocky, the cat for whom this blog was named, passed away in 2008; I miss them all. I wish I lived somewhere where the winters weren't eight months long; other than that, life is good.
Whoa! That's pretty freaky. Do the cats go out at night?
When I first moved to the area, I started hearing bear stories on the local news and I occasionally had some intense dreams about bears. I also at first misunderstood the news story, thinking they were saying, "After the break, local residents are complaining about wild blackBERRIES," and I wondered why anyone would complain about that.
6 comments:
Holy F, is that a bear or am I blind!
Yep, it's a bear all right. About ten feet behind MY FLIPPIN' HOUSE.
Whoa! That's pretty freaky. Do the cats go out at night?
When I first moved to the area, I started hearing bear stories on the local news and I occasionally had some intense dreams about bears. I also at first misunderstood the news story, thinking they were saying, "After the break, local residents are complaining about wild blackBERRIES," and I wondered why anyone would complain about that.
P.S. You can show this image to your nasty neighbor woman next time she complains of damage in her garden. It's the freakin' bear, lady.
Thumbs up to Domestic Kate, print that picture. Then tell her there is bear crap by the grass clippings piles.
Kate, I'd prefer blackberries ... and the cats (voluntarily) stay in at night. Now I know why.
and you guys are right - show this pic to that bitchy neighbor. Ha. "You think my CATS are bad, lady? Wait'll I send the BEAR over ..."
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