Broodmaster

Somehow, I find myself responsible for the care and feeding of no less than five cats this weekend: my own Ben and Tig, Jody’s stalwart Brie and dainty May, and my neighbor Nat’s regal snowshoe, Chloe.

One of my coworkers back at Adobe, Shawna, had a sticker in her office window that read, “Destined to become an old woman with lots of cats.” Somehow that wasn’t where I expected to end up, but maybe fate has other plans. All I know is that if I see an army of knitted tea cozies advancing upon my cubicle under the command of a floppy straw hat wearing dried flowers, I’m making a break for it.

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