With the holidays around the corner, the air conditioners have finally been taken down in my apartment. (Physically arduous tasks tend to get postponed until the last minute in La Casa Rosmanica.) Suffice it to say Permakitten Gracie is officially bereft that the evil, evil pigeon who perches on the bedroom window AC–you know, her arch frenemy—won’t return again until summer. Not even a bird-festooned Christmas tree can lift my little friend’s gloom. And, no: I’m not projecting. (Mostly.)
With the holidays around the corner, the air conditioners have finally been taken down in my apartment. (Physically arduous tasks tend to get postponed until the last minute in La Casa Rosmanica.) Suffice it to say Permakitten Gracie is officially bereft that the evil, evil pigeon who perches on the bedroom window AC–you know, her arch frenemy—won’t return again until summer. Not even a bird-festooned Christmas tree can lift my little friend’s gloom. And, no: I’m not projecting. (Mostly.)