The Disjointed Thoughts of a Writer

I swear, my cats are crazy. Yes, cats. We now have Chuckles again (he used to be ours, then we gave him to Ginny, and though she was going to take him to live at her mom's, he's happy here), and it's funny to watch Pic and Chuck interact. For one thing, Chuckles has a bad back and a crooked tail (we think he must have been the runt of the litter); for another, he's declawed (he was that way when he wandered up to us in Florida). So he'll bat at her, but it doesn't mean anything. And he's funny to watch going up stairs or jumping up on furniture. He does fine, he just does it different. And he sits funny, kind of pigeon toed. And then there's Pickles; because she's deaf, she's easily startleable (is that even a word?). If you sneak up on her, you can get to fluff up. And as much as I love her, she really is dumb. Who knew, though, that I could be so attached to two kitties?( my silly kitties )