Monday, March 14, 2005

My cat doesn't hate me. I think.

Radish and I made up. I didn't quite get the apology I feel I deserved, but when I came home on Friday he seemed awfully contrite. I try not to project emotions onto the cat too much, but he really looked sheepish and kept his distance. Then we had a lovely weekend of playing without claws or teeth, and he was all kinds of snuggly with both Boy and me. I guess, in the scheme of things, I'd rather have a cat that demands attention by nipping at my knees than by peeing on the bed.

And who could stay mad at this face?

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