The curmudgeon, keeping some late hours, was, as ever, having horseplay with Tiger, the wonder cat.
Now that winter has set in, there aren't any chipmunk "buds", and I, his chief-of-staff, have become the chief victim of his enthusiasm.
We recently had a battle with my new "Universal" remote - boy - he can chew hard, and with 20,000 little buttons, a rage-inflated chew manages to send the tv into a foreign land, the cable box into axoplexy, and the DVD into perpetual displexcia.
Yeow - this is a hunter-killer cat.
Oh - then he plopped over and became adorable. Who knows how to handle this?
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