He’s being kind. The Queen’s thoughtlessness was the root cause.
He said, “Bob’s on the porch now, if you want to see him.” I did want to see Bob: it had been a long, busy couple of work days and I hadn’t had a moment for Bob cuddles since Thursday morning. Greg had taken Turmoil and Trouble outside into the garden so I went out to the porch, picked up Bob, brought him in to my office and closed the door. What I neglected to consider was that when Bob was sick of being inside and needed to return to his outdoor world, I needed a way to carry him outside without running into the terrorists. Bob declared it was time to be released. I picked him up, went to my office door and opened it, imagining I’d quickly make the dozen or so steps to the back door. Naturally, the second the door opened, in flew the terrorists. Claws immediately sank into my arms and I hollered for help. Bob slashed at Greg when he tried to wrangle him. Greg then made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get the dogs out of my office. Bob relocated to my back and anchored the claws for a firm hold. Greg then held onto the dogs as I walked out of the office with the cat attached to me like a velcro backpack, and shut the door firmly behind me. Bob did not let go. I walked to the outer door, Bob still firmly attached. I stepped outside, got down into my best “The King and I” kowtow position and waited the five excruciating seconds until Bob realized he was safe, retracted his claws and stepped off of my back over to the food bowl and calmly had a snack.
Fortunately, I just recently restocked our supply of Neosporine.
He said, “Bob’s on the porch now, if you want to see him.” I did want to see Bob: it had been a long, busy couple of work days and I hadn’t had a moment for Bob cuddles since Thursday morning. Greg had taken Turmoil and Trouble outside into the garden so I went out to the porch, picked up Bob, brought him in to my office and closed the door. What I neglected to consider was that when Bob was sick of being inside and needed to return to his outdoor world, I needed a way to carry him outside without running into the terrorists. Bob declared it was time to be released. I picked him up, went to my office door and opened it, imagining I’d quickly make the dozen or so steps to the back door. Naturally, the second the door opened, in flew the terrorists. Claws immediately sank into my arms and I hollered for help. Bob slashed at Greg when he tried to wrangle him. Greg then made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get the dogs out of my office. Bob relocated to my back and anchored the claws for a firm hold. Greg then held onto the dogs as I walked out of the office with the cat attached to me like a velcro backpack, and shut the door firmly behind me. Bob did not let go. I walked to the outer door, Bob still firmly attached. I stepped outside, got down into my best “The King and I” kowtow position and waited the five excruciating seconds until Bob realized he was safe, retracted his claws and stepped off of my back over to the food bowl and calmly had a snack.
Fortunately, I just recently restocked our supply of Neosporine.
Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.