Write about: the cat.
Spent most of the morning researching laptops, as we've decided to get one to replace this thing, which we bought just over four years ago. Found what looks like a really good deal online but wanted to stop in at the local store to see what they had in stock.
Nothing came even close, so I put in the order and it should be here in a week or so. Pretty excited about the affordable upgrade.
Natalie came over after lunch and spent the afternoon playing and arguing and playing and arguing and playing with Max. Mostly entertaining with a few moments of genuine frustration.
Back to harvesting for local orders in the morning.
We were never certain where Banjo had come from. He had some manners (at least two of them, maybe three), so we figured he couldn't be wild. But ours was a small town and we knew nobody was missing a pet, or had even recently welcomed a litter into the world.
He seemed to like us well enough. Mom especially, what with the way she was always tossing him leftovers (and sometimes extra food she had made especially for him - though she'd never admit to doing it). I don't think he ever scratched any of us. Even when Oscar, my little brother, would yank on his tail.
Heck, I would've scratched him for that.
Banjo wasn't much of a mouser. In fact I'm pretty sure I saw him sharing a plate with the local rodent population one night. But he was pleasant company and sure knew how to keep a lap warm when the nights turned cold - but not cold enough to abandon the porch and go inside.
He hasn't been round in a while though, and nobody seems to know where he might have gone. Pretty typical stuff for him, but I miss him all the same. Mom says maybe he's off visiting with another family that's in need of his company. I like that idea. It's better, at any rate, than what Dad suggested at breakfast the other morning.
Anyhow, I don't think Banjo would be foolish enough to allow himself to be cooked - I don't care how tough that bacon was.