Okay, so. My cat has been missing for about a week. Last night, we heard plaintive mewing outside, and I raced out to see if it was her. It was not.

It was a small, grey and silver boycat. Of the incredibly adorable, totally abandoned type. We took him in, called him Erik (Opera Ghost, or Phantom of the Opera, hee), and are preparing signs... he'd got far too few fleas to not belong to /someone/, or have belonged to someone not long ago.

Animal protection found the damaged rottweiler, by the by, and took him to the vet.

Erik slept on the pillow last night between me and Fox, and he mews plaintively when he's alone in dark rooms, or under the couch. Other cats scare him, and he's newly enough weaned that he finds cat food slightly challenging.

My parents are coming up on sunday, and there will also be D&D gamers. So I am doing all the housework in creation.

And reporting this happiness to you good people. And trying to convice Bahorel that no one wants to know about what he does with his mistress.

Look boy, smut about what you do with other boys is fine. But don't get all straight on me. There's plenty of that to go around.

"But what if I'm thinking of another boy at the time??"

[at this point, the typist suffers from a brain seizure, and buries her head in pillows to stop the fucking pain.]

By the way. Though it is something that he swears Courfeyrac didn't and wouldn't have known, the name of Bahorel's (actually female) mistress is Dominique.

Aii.

<<agé chose>>

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