It would seem that there is more than one way to shave a cat.  Although I can’t think of a single reason anyone would WANT to shave a cat.  It can’t be much fun for the cat.  And it would likely be dangerous if that cat had claws—as does Henry Chow, Ninja Kitty. 

I have often said that no matter how much Henry Chow sheds (often more than enough to build an entirely new kitty) he never appears to be missing any fur.  That is no longer the case.  Henry Chow now has not one, but two bald spots.  One of the bald spots is undoubtedly a battle wound.  There is some evidence that he may have been attacked from behind by the other cat, and a nice chunk of his fur has been ripped out.  The spot is healing nicely, and I hope the hair will grow back in time.  The other spot is not one caused by battle.  I am certain that spot was caused by an electric razor.  I’ve asked the guilty party to step forward and come clean, but they are all denying knowledge about the shaved bald spot on the kitty. 

They have implicated each other. 

But this was not an accidental shaving.  These are not toddlers.  Everyone who lives in my house on a regular basis is either an adult, or just outside of the parameters of adulthood.  They should know better.  I will continue to dig for the truth until I manage to get one of them to cave under the pressure.  If only the cat could talk!

Talking cats aside, it was another beautiful day.  The weather seems to have cycled back around to the normal warm, dry, and sunny weather we are accustomed to here in Atlanta.  And the weather isn’t the only thing that was back.  My “back to healthy eating” diet has been going well all week.  Today I had oatmeal for breakfast and a salad for lunch only to discover that someone brought two boxes of Girl Scout cookies to work.  They just left them open on the table in the break room for anyone to eat. 

This was cruel and unusual punishment.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the bank is just a giant mousetrap and the constant flow of chocolate is the proverbial cheese!

As for me?

I’m like this fancy mouse trying to get the cheese without springing the trap.  I got snapped at least once today.  Ok twice.  They were Samoas!  How does anyone pass up a Samoa?  I’ve decided to stay out of the break room going forward. It’s just safer that way.

I made it through the rest of the day without burning, breaking, or flooding anything.  I did find myself going against the traffic in the grocery store at rush hour.  Navigating a grocery cart backwards through the store is never a smart idea, but luckily, no one got hurt.  Despite my successful trip to the store yesterday, I found myself missing the key ingredient for dinner.  I made spinach and goat cheese pizza.  It was very tasty.  I skipped the soda, and I didn’t even have desert! I feel as if I’ve made up for the two Samoas (and the two Thin Mints I found stashed in the break room freezer.)

It would have been a perfect day if on the eve of the tax deadline our taxes had already been completed.  But they weren’t.  So my husband is doing our taxes beside me in the bed. (We are a two laptop couple and we know how to use them!) I fully expect him to be working on taxes long after I post my blog and go to sleep.  I don’t know how otherwise rational adults make it through tax season without getting divorced. I don’t know what possessed us to wait until April 14^th to dig out our documents and attempt to piece together an entire year’s worth of tax information in a few hours time.  I guess it’s the challenge. And who doesn’t love a challenge?

Until the next time…I’ll be listening to the clicking of his keyboard and the whispered obscenities of a man doing taxes!