When I’m rowdy, sometimes, mama hums to me because a friend of hers who used to be an opera singer said that you have to hum as you get older so as not to lose your voice and mama had a pretty passable voice years ago, I hear, and sang in choirs and sang solos in church (knees shaking) and sang in a trio of teen-agers at those dances they used to...
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I’m sitting up here on my lookout perch near mama’s desk drooling over the birds she feeds in the morning, sort of a TV set for me really because I’m not into hunting much but I loving watching those birdbrains and imagining tearing their throats out. I can’t go out until they’ve stuff their little gullets, but I chatter away...
Read MoreSpeaking of dumb kitties (see cat who allows Spay Suit to be put on self)—when mama was trying to get me to use the potty like humans, I saw a (pretty dishy) Siamese in a how-to video who actually went pee-pee on the john and then pulled all of the toilet paper off the roll trying to cover up the smell, as we do, and he stuffed it all in the john...
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