A Chunk of Fur Gone

I was off yesterday, thank goodness. Got home late, due to a union meeting after work. We had the usual upsetment over feeding dinner, so I gave Bella hers in my room. She does this scratching thing, as if dinner is shit, and she's trying to cover it with sand. It's very insulting to me, as I tried hard to give her a nice meal. (It was canned chicken cat food, with real cooked chicken from the fridge mixed in, and a little mashed sweet potato, too.) The little one ate hers up.

I got up early yesterday morning 'cause the cable guy was coming to disconnect my cable box, which he did, at 8 a.m. Too expensive, especially with all these vet fees. I made myself bacon and pancakes, with coffee, fed the cats, cleaned their boxes, looked around my living room at the piles of unopened mail, and went back to bed. Slept till noon. I'd closed the door, and Bella was snuggled up against me looking so calm, it was wonderful. Then I noticed what I thought was a cut on her leg. It's actually a pink spot, where her white fur was removed, but the skin is not broken. I wonder who could have done that?

Poor Bella. She is really getting the worst of it. I can't believe how feisty this new cat is. Again this morning, she rubbed up against my legs in the kitchen. It's becoming a regular thing. She has such potential! I'm getting messages on Facebook, from three friends, to the effect that they bet I'll keep the little feral. "You're an old softie," one of them said.

I am meeting my friend Shani later at a bar on the Bowery, for a beauty sample event, of all things, so I will get home late again tonight. And tomorrow I am not off, after all, but doing overtime. Looking forward to Monday, the Columbus Day holiday, and Tuesday, my regular day off. That'll be nice.