Barber cuts to the quick

Henry and I walked the other day past our new barber's shop.

Henry: Hey! That's Alphie's!

Me: Hey, you're right! I wonder if he's in today.

Suddenly, Alphie pops out of the shop, waving a hat of Jane's.

Alphie: Your little girl left this when you were here last week.

Me: Thanks, Alphie! Y'know, we didn't even miss it.

Alphie: Well, that's prosperity for you.

Whither paternity leave?

It's over. 12 weeks have passed. I am back at work.

I am.


At work.

While I sort through more than 300 e-mails, Henry and Jane paint the paper mâché model of the solar system we made this weekend.

Remind me again what is important.

Dear Nice-Smelling One: a letter of longing from my cat to my wife

This is a letter we found sitting on the kitchen table when we returned home from our trip.  It smelled vaguely of tuna and Brut.

Dear Nice-Smelling One,

You are not here.  It took me 3 or 4 nights to realize this.  I try not to concern myself terribly with the affairs of the bipeds.  But eventually, you absence became obvious.   Your bed stopped smelling like you.  Distantly, the smell was still there, but it was fading.  I peed and pooped there in order to fill the scent void.

After the realization of the bed scent, I started paying closer attention.  I noticed it was quiet.  No screaming or anything.  Also, I had not been chased in many days. 

I've dreamed of the bipeds leaving before.  Mostly, I think about the Tall, Dumb-Looking One and The Small Ones Who Make Too Much Noise leaving.  In my dreams, you stay.  As I say, you smell nice.  And you scoop my litter promptly.

I pooped on the small ones' beds too.

Somewhere around Day Six I realized that Someone had been filling my food bowl.  Then, I noticed a strange biped coming in and out, opening windows, turning on lights, filling my bowl.  He smelled Very Bad and dressed in trailer park fur.  When he came, I hid for many hours, despite his calling of "Kitty kitty kitty..."

If you do return, I have prepared a feast to welcome you home: a big, juicy mouse awaits you on your bed (beside the pee and poo).

Yours in Fur,
Joan the Cat