Most definitely. Tbh my wife’s not to worried about it either.
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Just had an online talk about possibly adopting this little 2y/o street girl from Athens. Not 100% sure it will go through yet but it looks good. Say hi to Leyla!
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Bob getting ready for an exciting morning of bird hunting.
@Mno what a sweet looking girl. Hi Leyla. 
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Milo and Mila are adopted from Thessaloniki 
Kalispéra to beautiful Leyla, I hope the two of you are a match 
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Hi sweet Leyla 
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4 full threds
On thred number 5
Streight up about our furry felion friends
Im going to stay right here and like as many cat pictures as i can for today and tomorrow.
Matt, why were you on your phone for 2 days so much?
Me - 
My boy also now meows at me and when i meow back, he tilts his head to his shoulder and say awwwwww
I think he learned it from his aunt
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Your cat could have their own kids cartoon. Kitty reminds me of a pirate. But a friendly one.
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Pawwwwwjusssssss!!!
Street cats = best cats
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Caught these two in a highly sophisticated debate.
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If I end up showing too many pics of Luna aka Luna Bear aka Bear Bear aka Wubbie aka WubWub, (hope she doesn’t have an identity crisis) don’t stop me please! 
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Homer?
Ten characters
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I spend my evenings a little differently now.
A good book with a loving creature on my lap beats having her have to console my days on end benders of drinking and recovering.
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TW: Sad cat story.
I joined a new writing club today. It was really nice. In a public library, once a week on a Friday afternoon - my day off. It’s free and all who want can come and join. One assignment, a little writing exercise, write for half an hour or so, read our stories to each other and get a little bit of feedback. An old friend talked about it on FB and I joined her today. I’ll be back for sure.
Anyway, Here’s what I wrote today. You might guess what it’s about. Turns out it still hurts.
Luna’s looking at me. I look at her. She looks away. I do the same. The stone in my stomach feels bigger. Again. Or actually it’s more like a knot. A knot that keeps tightening, and expanding at the same time. I feel sick. It’s twelve o’clock. Four hours.
We’re lying on the bed together. Like we’ve been laying there daily for close to twenty years now. The small fur clad frame of my kitty and my long lanky naked human body. We’re looking at each other, and we’re looking away again. Three hours thirty minutes.
Luna’s fur is mothy, dull, matted. Lately she has hardly been washing herself. I tried to help her with it, but fell short. Untangling small matts by hand, cutting out some larger ones. I recently quit doing that too. Acceptance. An acceptance that right now is gone again. Three hours and ten minutes. I scratch Luna’s head, behind her ears. She squints at me, purrs faintly. Stops. She tries to stretch. Fails.
Two and a half hours. Two hours. Eternity. I offer Luna some morsels of chicken filet. Her favourite food. Against my better judgement. Indeed she’s not interested. I softly stroke her old body. The knot in my stomach tightens even more and gets even bigger. I try to belch.
Sunshine enters the bedroom, illuminates part of the bed. A certain cue for my kitty to move and lay down in the full sunlight. Well, it used to be. Now she stays put. No movement. No sure if she doesn’t care, doesn’t notice, or she’s missing the strength to move. Cautiously I pick her up, lay her down in the full light and warmth of the sun. She doesn’t resist. No idea if she likes it or not.
Thirty minutes. I’m crazy tense. Tears are falling. I force myself to keep lying, to keep stroking her. I’m always early. Leave early. Arrive early. It’s a family trait. I’m not going to do this to my cat. Ten minutes. Five. Fuck. Fuck it. The crate is standing next to the bed. No fight this time. Without a struggle Luna lets herself be put in it. She’s tired. Here we go sweet Luna. Here you go. Twenty years. Time’s up.
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