This time I was wearing jeans. And I took the time to put on a pair of work gloves.
There were three this time, but one of them actually managed to get out when I got back, leaving these two.
The little girl in the calico outfit was looking pitiful and absolutely adorable — until I got a hold of her. One must remember that kitties have six ends, and five of those are sharp.
She got my social digit in between a couple of molars and bore down like a hydraulic press. Didn’t break skin, but she bruised my finger something fierce. Thank various deities for Spectra-lined work gloves.
Once again, I bust my hump for a Sweet Young Thing, only to be savaged and left swearing in the dust.
I’m starting to see a metaphor to my dating life.