Baby Lasagna

Oh man, Remember that frozen yogurt place?   It closed down.  Hmm wonder why.  I forgot to tell you, Bloggy, when we were on our break.

So I have this cat named Baby Lasagna.  She is orange and wonderful and about one thousand pounds.  She is also fourteen so I am afraid she may kick the bucket soon :( E calls her Baby Anya. E also likes to throw things at her and demand reciprocal play.  Baby Lasagna usually waltzes away.  BL is a waltzer.

Cats are the opposite of dogs.  When I was little I used to think all cats were girls and all dogs were boys.  It made sense.  I also didn't know about black people because I guess I just didn't notice them till I was about seven?  So I thought God had made new and improved people in different colors. Seriously I was like, oh so we come in black now, that's so cool.

E has transitioned to a new bed because it is the bottom bunk.  This means she can get out of it whenever she feels she is needed.....say.... right now in the attic?   Oh dear

Anyway,  Baby Lasagna is a cat, and she most likely has magical powers. For instance she was a tiny kitten for two years and then she exploded into Garfield. I was never a cat person, but one day fourteen years ago, kablooey!  I was all set to get a grey (?) kitten and name it Baby Lasagna, and lo and behold there she came waltzing right out of her little cage. She had had an "upper respiratory infection"

She was sickly at the start and I had to nurse her back to health.  I lived in a studio apartment in NYC at the time, so it was just me and BL, lighting up the town, two single cats on the prowl.  I walked her to the East River once, but then she really got sick and started SNOTTING all over everything.

I would come home from work and she would be sneezing and snotting everywhere. I would follow her around with tissues.  Turns out she had a growth in her neck that had to be removed, which I got done about one day before she would have kicked it. Once it was done she was perfect for the next fourteen years!

Um thank God, because if I came home to a dead cat at age 25, I never would have had kids.