rob-thurman

If I had a bad day, which, now that I ran my own life, was a helluva lot less than the old days, I sat on the floor with Houdini, placed a hand on his broad head, and soaked up endless doggy wonder. A full stomach, a well-chewed toy, a soft couch__hrough a dog__ eyes, that was a true glory that couldn__ be matched, the only heaven in existence. I missed the furball, missed him like crazy.

I wonder if I brought my Silly-cat in_could you tell me what she__ thinking?___ can tell you what she__ thinking right now, no touching necessary,_ I drawled. __he__ thinking if she were three times her size, she would eat you._ _Every cat that was awake when I__ smoothed its fur with a bare hand thought that. Every cat I touched that was asleep dreamed that.

Told me that when you bury emotions like that, you're only pissing them off ... making them stronger, because you're burying them alive. They don't like that, and one day they'll make sure that you don't like it either.