He Wasn't What I'd Thought He Was;

Usually When I Finish The Draft Of A Book, I'm Sure I'll Never Write Another One. I'm Just That Tired And Sick Of Myself. But Then Another Idea Starts Percolating. It Usually Begins With The Narrator's Name, Then Some Idea That Intrigues Me About Her Life Or Situation. I Try To Ignore It As Long As I Can, Because I Know When I Start Writing, I'll Be Right Back Into It, Every Single Day. But Eventually, I Just Have To. It's A Compulsion!

Look. We Both Know Life Is Short, Macy. Too Short To Waste A Single Second With Anyone Who Doesn't Appreciate And Value You.

That's Not A Real Answer.' Says Who?' Says Me. I Mean Real Fear, Like Of Failure, Of Death, Of Regret. Like That. Something That Keeps You Awake Nights, Questioning Your Very Existence.' Clowns.

After The Group Vet Appointment--during Which Lyle Scratched The Vet, The Vet Tech, And Some Poor Woman Minding Her Own Business In The Waiting Room--we Went Back To Sabrina's And Re-released The Cats To Their Natural Habitat.

And While It Is Hard Enough To Take Away Something That Makes A Person Happy It's Even More Difficult When It Seems Like It's The Only Thing.