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2005-04-25 - 10:22 a.m.

Found a kitten between our townhome and neighbor's. It looks like it's no more than six to eight weeks old. *

Chloe and I went to get the mail, and I saw three kittens, a tabby with black back, a little grey one, and a calico kitten all milling around a drainage tube that ran under the grass and down the hill towards the connecting road.

I walked towards them as they scrambled to get back into the tube and grabbed the last one by the tail and hindquarters and tugged her out, screaming and hissing at me.

I brought her back home and Chloe fell in love instantly. Marie too, I think, but she has terrible allergies, so for her to even consider us keeping it is a miracle in and of itself, and shows how much she cares for Chloe and I.

She likes to hide behind things, in tight places, and has bit me once trying to pull her out. I seem fine, so looks like Chloe and I have both suffered non-fatal pet attacks in 2005.

Hurray!

Yesterday we went out and spent the day at one of those ren-faire things, and had a great time, spent some money, laughed and ran from the rain, had a few drinks some food, some funnel cake and watched some shows and jousting.

Before we left, I caught Chloe getting one of her photos from her bookshelf and put the frame down next to the kitten and said, "Brownie, if you miss me too much, don't because there is a picture of me and I will be right back, ok?"

Last night she was tucked in, and only woke once or twice in the middle of the night, running upstairs begging me to find Brownie because she "disappeared in the air". (I think she means into thin air)

Of course I found her, hiding behind the TV, and then in the bathroom under the sink. I think this will be good for
Chloe, having this pet, and extra responsibility. Considering how the last one turned out, I am hoping that she will stay this happy and responsible, and start her days by getting in the shower herself, helping with her breakfasts, getting dressed without being told 20x, and brushing her teeth without me asking.

All of those things would be welcome changes.

* Wow my entries are boring and lack any color don't they? Luckily my life itself is vibrant and perfect.

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Vitals:
35 Years old. 1971.
Taurus. Year of the Pig. Oink
Greying. Dyes, on occasion.
Blue/Green/Grey Eyes.
5'11. Okay, 5'10
215 pounds of boy
dad. married father.
love, big fan of/in
day: sr proj manager
night: pro wrestler (grr)

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