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Music box o the Erstwhile Elsewhere Amy.


January 13th, 2004.
Heather was attacked at 5am this morning, the perpetrator is lying in a sunbeam behind me, caged like the animal she is.


All of the Amy's Parents' House animals drool. Maggie apparently came rushing into Heather's room at about five in the morning, and tracked Heather in the pre-dawn light, and leapt. I slept through her cries of "not the face! Not the FACE!!!" and "NO STRANGER DESERVES THIS MUCH LOVE!!!!"

Now, Heather often sleeps in these tiny little tank tops, which means that a WHOLE lot of skin was available for Maggie's frantic perusal. And I believe all of it was ... used.

This morning, Heather smells of dog.

And then there's Shadow. Shadow wouldn't come in last night (not Shakespeare, my suspicions about Shakespeare were correct) but this morning will stop at nothing for Love. Apparently Amy's mom (who's been up visiting Amy) are their primary source of Love, and they have been starved for about 48 hours. Now, to a cat, with a brain the size of a walnut, this is a veritable eternity - and though perhaps fiercely loyal in the presence of their owner - after the first hour or so of absence, I find that most animals begin to seriously doubt that their Human will ever re-appear.

Hence, when we arrive... well, the mammals seem willing to take what they can get.

Anywho - the sun is intensely bright outside, Heather's still snoozing in her doggie stench upstairs, and I'm in the kitchen, listening to the cats wish I was feeding them, and listening to the dog wish I was playing with her, and listening to the refrigerator dream its refrigerator dreams, which involve an occassional hissing clunk.

I have NO idea what THAT's all about.

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