Thursday, August 18, 2011

Thursday Morning Coming Down

6:30 a.m.: While taking the dog out for her breakpiss, the cat bolts past the not yet caffeinated hubby, and out the open apartment door. As the wife sings "Hit The Road, Jack," the hubby pursues, flipflops flapping down the steps, sotto voce profanities spilling like a fuzzy cat through an open apartment door, dog galumping behind.
The cat wedges himself under the stairs, his loud purring echoing through the lobby. The hubby succeeds in enticing the cat from under the steps just as help arrives in the form of a perspiring Corgi snout. The hubby falls to his knees, profanities probably audible to other tenants, and grabs cat by the hind legs. As he crawls clumsily out from under the stairs, the cat's front claws tear the carpet with a sound like pulling apart the world's largest pieces of velcro.
His knees pop as hubby stands with writhing, way overweight writhing still,loudly purring writhing cat. Hubby secures dog, who is standing outside an apartment door not her own, her nose-sweat staining the carpet. Before the party ascends the stairs, the hubby hears the wife singing "The Hallelujah Chorus."
The flipflops flap, the dog galumps, the cat purrs and wriggles. Hubby opens the door, and catches what he will later recall is a look of murderous disappointment on the wife's face. The dog rushes in, collar jangling. Hubby hands escaped purring prisoner to wife, who is promptly whacked, to no one's surprise, by the purrball.
Hubby flipflop runs down the stairs, dog dripping and galumping, as wife hums a melody from Sweeney Todd.

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