Cat Soft flerken warm flan deadly ball of fur shirt. This great shirt is now available on my store as well as my website. Let’s visit it and pick up this special item for yourself. The high quality of it will make you satisfied. I had plans today, Friday. Riding plans. I got the bike ready to go Thursday evening, checked all systems, all tires, all fluids, etc. I laid out my riding gear so I could jump out of bed, suit up and hit the road first thing. The Wife watched from afar, saying nothing. Nothing with her mouth; her eyes said something else. I set the alarm for 0600, but like a kid on Christmas Eve, I didn’t sleep much and I kept waking up every hour in anticipation of the ride.
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At 0400 I decided sleep was useless, so I turned off the alarm and read a couple more chapters of Jack Riepes book “Conversations With A Motorcycle”. I kept my laughter to a minimum so I didn’t wake The Wife. Let sleeping dogs lie… Departure time arrived so I suited up and headed to the garage. I carefully lifted the garage door, moving in slow motion, cringing at every creak and groan of the rusty hinges (gotta remember to spray them with some WD-40). I pushed the bike into the driveway and a short distance down the street so She wouldn’t hear the engine. And I swung a leg and settled down in the saddle. I turned the key…. the key… the key… where’s the bloody key?
In place of the key there was a sheet of yellow legal paper, single spaced, 2 columns wide, with a list of chores assigned by The Wife. I think she’s trying to tell me something. Thinking quickly, confident in my planning, I wadded the paper into a ball, threw it in the bushes, and went to the emergency key I keep hidden on the bike. Soft Flerken, Warm Flerken, Deadly ball of fur. Hunger Flerken, Vicious Flerken, Purr, purr, purr. No key. %&$#. She’d taken that one too. (I made the mistake of showing here where it was back in 2016; she has an excellent memory for things I’ve done wrong and secrets of any kind) Not to be outsmarted, I went back to the garage to get the other bike. You guessed it, no key. And the hidden key was gone too.
Hunger Flerken, Vicious Flerken, Purr, purr, purr.
Telling my 7-year-old son that his best friends, of almost 3 years, has passed away was o e of the hardest things I have ever had to do as a mother. And to top it off I feel like it was my fault because I left Steve outside last night, if I had just waited and made him come in he wouldn’t be dead right now. Steven was a very special and unique cat, he hated being cuddled but would let you do it anyway. He hardly ever scratched or bit anyone unless he was playing. I am really going to miss that big ball of fur sleeping at my feet and taking up all the room at night. I hate that Josh has had to experience losing his friend this way. Steven was his buddy and best friend. We love and miss you so much Steve!
