Pro-cat-stination

I wish everyone at work had to wear tiny little bells on them so that I could hear them coming from a cubicle mile away. Then I could more swiftly minimize my browser-window-of-procrastination du jour. It would work similarly to the belled collar my former cat wore as a warning to all birds in her vicinity. If they didn’t notice the bright white kitty crouching stealthily in the green foliage, then they’d hear her as she flung herself through the air, pouncing onto her tweety bird prey!


That actually sounded more cruel than helpful, like when you hear the jaws theme song you know you’re about to die a gory death at the hands (fins?) of multiple rows of serrated teeth and there is NOTHING you can do about it. But the collar really did work; I don’t think she ever caught a single bird. She did, however, try to learn to fly herself one day at my parent’s house. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t just GO THROUGH THE FREAKING HOOP instead of backing off the railing of the deck, falling what had to be a couple of hundred feet.

She lived though, so that’s good. Now I don’t have to live with a lifetime of guilt for driving her to her untimely death by being the most dedicated trainer she ever had in her dream to become America’s Next Top Circus Cat!

If not for her fear of circles, she would’ve done it, too. *sniff*

Fin procrastination