so…. Dave and I were missing each other on Skype and finally we connected. I spent… it feels like I spent the first ten minutes of the call going On and fucking On, as one does, about how intelligent Buster is.
Mookie, Dave’s cat, promptly got up on the back of his chair, put two paws up on the bookshelf, and then, delicate, delicate, delicately extended one claw AND YOINKED DAVE’S WATER GLASS OVER. It didn’t break but Dave had to get up and get a towel. I got to watch the whole thing and instead of doing anything useful like warning Dave I screamed with laughter because I am, not to put too fine a point on it, a total weeb.
Then he jammed his hairy little face into the camera and for one brief second I thought I was disappearing into a tiger’s maw.
There are no eggs in Toronto, at least not for delivery.
