It is a sad but true fact that humans spend way too much time worrying about the weather. I don’t know what it’s like in other parts of the world but the humans here are obsessed about it. They think about it and worry about it, cry about it and swear about it and on occasion rejoice about it. Some of them even watch a television network that’s simply ALL about it. Just in case – what are the odds? – they miss the most recent local forecast, they can check their barometers and wind meters and wireless multisensored countertop weather stations.
Want to know what the weather is? Look outside. Sun? That’s nice. Snow? Who cares? Rain? Just give a good shake and get over it.
I don’t have much time; Mom wasn’t keen on me coming back on here because I told everyone about Catie’s hanger-on poop. Catie, by the way, is standing up on the couch at this very moment trying to get into something she’s not supposed to. Seriously, since Catie got cancer, there aren’t too many rules around here. It’s chaos.
Just wanted to make my weather rebuttal. I only used that word because I like butts so much that a rebutt sounded pretty cool. It’s a dude thing. Buttons; buttresses; butterflies, scuttlebutts, buttocks.
Oops. The great buttinsky just noticed what I was writing and says it’s time to sign off. Now. What does degenerated mean?? Worse than that she spied all the mess Catie and I dragged in from outside again and now she’s heaving out that nasty noisy sucking machine I hate. I’ve seen mom empty that thing and it’s full of some dog’s fur. Maybe more than one. Maybe hundreds. Thousands. And mom wonders what happened to the feathers on Catie’s tail?? Hellllooo? This is how those hairless breeds came to be.
Gottago Riley