Jake is giving me his "well, come and pet me, dammit" look.
Gracie is watching me between the cushions of the sofa.
Airplanes, cats, guns, war, the more than occasional rant about the party of the Confederacy, the spinelessness of the Democrats and crap about anything else that flits through the somewhat offbeat mind of an armed lesbian pinko as she slides down the Razor Blade of Life.

We trimmed our big yellow tabby up today. I told the kids about you washing Gracie's butt and they asked why I don't do that for our big guy. I told them they could start doing it. Meanwhile, he's been scalped, the poor, embarrassed critter.
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