Sorry I Peed On You. Love, Rufus
I already knew my dear friend Julia was a kind and patient woman. I didn't know exactly how kind and patient until last weekend. Julia recklessly offered to stay with Emmie and Rufus (aka, Specklebutt and Pissypants the Scrot-gremlin) while the Hubby and I were in Nashville for our annual worship of Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit at the "Mother Church" (the historic Ryman Auditorium).
We were basking in the glow of a blazing rendition of This Ain't It when my Kind and Patient Friend Julia sent me the following text:
Julia: Rufus peed on me.
Me: Come again?
Julia: He was peeing on the leather couch, so I lifted him up to get him into his litterbox, but he was midstream and he just didn't stop. It went all over me. Then we had an all out fight over my dinner. I tried feeding him early so he'd leave me alone but he gulped it down and came at me for more. He’s pissed at me right now 'cause I just put him in his carrier so I could eat dinner in peace.
Me: You did the right thing. Thank you for not strangling his tiny, wrinkled, plucked-chicken-looking neck.
After a quick telepathic conversation with Rufus, he came up with an apologetic solution: Cookies. Shortly thereafter, a box of warm and yummy Insomnia cookies were delivered to Julia along with an apology note dictated by Rufus:
Dear Julia,
I'm sorry I peed on you.
Love, Rufus
Should all be forgiven?
0%No, he's a punkass scrot-gremlin.
0%Yes, cookies fix everything. Even punkass scrot-gremlins.
My sister sent me this eloquent and accurate Instagram post that explains EVERYTHING:
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