It's 8 p.m. Sunday and I'm "waiting for Godot." (Shoulda named Ashley Godot...)
The dogs, Archie the cat and I are all that's left in Jackie's old place -- well, except for this PC and an Internet connection and a printer. We're in "standby" mode. I have here one kid's sleeping bag (designed for a four-footer) on the floor and two pillows. The house doors going to the back yard are open just wide enough for a cat. The dogs are locked into the kitchen, to make the way clear for Ashley to hop the fence and come home, so I can nab him, his brother, the two dogs, and drive us to the new place, where there are beds, refrigerators, food, boxes... all the comforts of home...
So we wait... and wait... and wait...
Last time Ashley came by (yesterday morning), I should have nabbed him, instead of grooming him (which he loves) and letting him go back to being a Nature Boy again. He's digging it just too, too much. He'll love the new place -- if I can ever get him to come home HERE so I can take him there...
I'm bored outta my gourd. Waiting for Godot...
Archie is zero help. He won't go fetch his brother for me. "Am I my brother's keeper?" he seems to ask through large brown eyes every time I implore him to go out on a search and fetch mission. "Do I look like Captain Kirk -- willing to risk all to save a crew member?" he seems to wonder when I ask again...only minutes later... and minutes after that, again...
No, Archie. Fetching isn't one of the tasks God saddled cats with. But go find him anyway, will ya? I want to go HOME and get some sleep... in a real bed... sometime tonight. Before midnight... 2 a.m.... daybreak..
T'is a consummation devoutly to be wished.
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