owen

About 14 years ago, we brought Deimos and Phobos into our home from Berta’s sister’s cat’s litter in Johnstown. The two Maine Coon brothers - named after the sons of the war-god Ares, the personification of dread and fear - each had their own personalities, even as kittens.

Deimos was the playful adventurous cat of the pair. His favorite activities were fetching thrown pipe cleaners and trying to sneak out the back door when you weren’t looking. He would insist on being pet while I drank coffee in the morning, and when I didn’t, he’d bite my toes. Deimos was more friendly with people, but still preferred his family of humans. He’d sit in his cat tree during the day and chirp at the birds outside.

owen

I was going to write something profound this morning, but instead, I’m going to complain about my cat.

I have some time blocked out in the morning around breakfast to write some stuff for the blog. It’s not a lot of time, but it seems to be enough to actually get some written stuff online, which is more than I’ve been able to do regularly over the last couple of years.