Bill is one studly cat. Despite the fact that he's a eunuch and he never goes outside, he has a girlfriend. Maybe it's because he lives up to the very manly name we've given him. Or maybe his machismo is overcompensation for his gender identity issues in the first year of his life. I don't know.
Bill's favorite hobby is destroying mini-blinds. It's one of his enduring areas of destructiveness. For the past week he has been furiously darting from window to window, bending the blinds back to see out. Several have snapped, now putting us squarely on the white trash list until my hubby breaks down and lets me buy wood blinds. Yesterday he was over the edge, meowing and meowing at the windows. Bill, shut it! The baby's asleep! And then I see a petite, young she-cat - the object of his obsession. She was curled up and sleeping on a tree trunk four feet from the window. Bless his heart. Does he not know? That he ain't the man he once was?
She was back again today. Sister what are you trying to do here? Do you know what you're doing to my boy? Then I had a vision of myself thirteen years from now, wondering the same thing about some adolescent diva-in-the-making. She's already working her way onto Mama's bad list.