Houston, We Have a Purr (or: What, Me Envy?)

Houston, We Have a Purr (or: What, Me Envy?)

My poetry-writing buddy from Atlanta, Elisson, went on a pilgrimage to Houston this past week, where he met Lair Simon and his four beautiful, noble and charming cats.

Upon his return, Pilgrim Elisson graciously remembered me as follows:

[Rahel, I know this is gonna make you eat your heart out, but I gave them all extra skritches for you.]

Now why on earth would I be jealous? Just because Elisson got to be in the same city, nay, on the same continent as all four of Lair Simon’s wonderful, gorgeous kittycats? Just because he got to pet the colorful Piper, copper-striped polydactyl Nardo, fluffy Frisky and cavekitty Edloe with his own hands? Just because he got to meet Lair in person?

Jealous? Me? Nah. I’m an adult, you see. Mature. I even have proof: tonight, according to the Hebrew calendar, I flip a significant digit. (According to the Gregorian calendar, I flipped it last week.) So—what, me envy?

::sniffle::

Oh, all right, then. Maybe just a little.