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Toe slayer

I made a cryptic remark about my job in the previous post. To clarify: I am currently on furlough, with 80% of my pay forked over by the government. The furlough scheme is expected to continue until October, though at some point the government will reduce their share to 60% and my employer will have to cover 20%.

When that happens, I expect to be laid off. Or return to work on a tiny fraction of my usual hours. Me, and many hundreds of thousands of other people, I expect.

The problem is, we operate out of a very (VERY) old building. It simply cannot be made flu safe – the doorways and stairs are too narrow and we can’t just be slathering sanitizer on a historic building. Every single one of us is in the ‘at risk’ category, for one reason or another. Mostly age.

I’m fine with it. When things return to normal, I will be rehired. Meanwhile, I still have enough of a buffer to pay my liquor bill.

So. Boring.

Several days ago, I heard a cat eating out of a bowl in the kitchen. Dry kibble eaten out of a ceramic bowl makes a distinct clinking sound. Sure it was that wascally neighborhood cat who dips in the kitchen window and steals food, I let out an almighty howl.

This made big cat (pictured) rocket across the room, across my bare foot, cutting three impressive gashes as he went. Holy jeez, did it bleed.

Turns out, it was Welly in the kitchen all along. And I got a neat scar!

You know, I wouldn’t mind if this cat had a bit of my food. He’s a farm cat, and they tend to be deliberately underfed, poor bastards. But this is a big intact male who beats up my cats and sometimes pisses all over the kitchen for good measure.

June 23, 2020 — 8:37 pm
Comments: 8