I think I'm tired of pet-sitting. It feels like I'm wasting my time following around someone else's dog with a plastic baggie full of crap. (i.e., the crap that was extruded from the dog I'm following--not, like, random dog crap in a bag.) (Although that would be cool, too!) It's time I got my own pet, so at least the crap I clean up will be my own. Or my own pet's, anyway.

With that in mind, I bring you my great, new proposed KITTEN! (See illustration)

ILLUSTRATION

Oh, my God! Look how cute he is!

He is one of five (5) kittens of approximately the same appearance, who live on a neighboring boat. Their mother is some beautiful, exotic cat with golden fur and black spots, with pale lime green eyes--she truly is the Zsa Zsa Gabor (in the early years) of cats. I don't know what kind of cat she is--I thought she was an ocicat, but I am wrong, wrong, WRONG, because she's not. But whatever her pedigree, she is completely heedless of it, as she escaped from her boat for a surreptitious rendez-vous in the shrubbery with this giant fluffy black feral kat. (Note: This is similar to the way I met the Keelhauler, so I cannot judge.)

Anyway, the resultant kittens have the mom's spots and squiggly lines, but not her golden color. And I love them! They're so tiny, and they hiss and spit at me, until I sit quietly with them, singing a variety of melodies aimed at calming them, in the voice of Julie London. "'Round Midnight," "Cry Me A River," and "Hot Toddy" are their favorites. Eventually, the hissing stops and they drag themselves into a tight little knot around me, waggling their heads from side to side until they are lulled into gentle slumber. Ah, kittens. Is there anything more comfortable-looking than a big pile of sleeping kittens?

I have selected the above-pictured kitten as my own, and am deciding on a name. I want him to have a powerful name, in keeping with his physique, but that will also reflect his spotty nature. I'm thinking his name should be Specules. (It's like Hercules, but the "Herc" is replaced by "Spec") I'm open to suggestion.

Anyway, the Keelhauler first alerted me to these kittens, but since my attachment has grown, his enthusiasm has cooled. No matter. I have a plan. (See illustration.)

ILLUSTRATION

Here is a picture of me with my new proposed boyfriend, taken at a recent food and wine festival at which his band provided the entertainment. I should probably have gotten his name, but I didn't realize at the time how prominently he might figure in my future.

At any rate, the Keelhauler has in the past shown thorough disregard for my stand-taking, so threatening to leave him for ...Gary, let's say his name is Gary... is an empty threat. The Keelhauler would laugh and show me the door, opening a new beer with his free hand.

If Specules does not become my kitten, I will invite Gary to live on our boat with us. I think it would be awesome, sailing out to the islands while Gary lip-synchs a medley of Chic songs, discoing madly as his sequins glitter in the sun.

It's really the only logical solution.

Star of the day. . .Jean-Philippe Freu and Patrice Carri�