Friday January 30, 2009
St. Augustine, FL

After a sleepless, wet night I realized my cat had a toy in my bed. In Miami, the local critters visited every night but they never brought playthings to me. When I slept they would lick my hands for the salt crusted on my skin from spending much time on the beach; steal my socks, shoes, cell phone, and then pull on my hair with their teeth! The 50-60 lb. male got away with 54 years of growth (and a few gray ones) until I gave him a piece of concrete-enforcement rod between the eyes. After that I’d find him in the mornings sleeping behind my knees in trade for keeping the local copperheads off me.

Everything has value if someone wants it, and the only thing fair in life is whatever God wants. The cat? Her toy was a yellow winged finch that I guess was more fun than her superball until I threw her, the finch, the feathers, and the pool of blood off my sleeping bag. We paved Paradise and messed up a parking lot. Don’t it always seem to go?

‘Till next time,
Dollar Bill

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