Once in a while, a little cat just gets cold and lovey. Once in a while, a little cat just can’t stand the feeling of cold grass or wood or concrete or gravel on his little pink paw pads, and he wants to be where it’s warmer.

That is why he is draped across my shoulders as I type this.

I like to feel him there, and to hear him purr right into the side of my face.

But I have to tell you. . . . as he was making the climb up there, I had my doubts. This cat’s claws are really, really sharp.

I’d take a picture for you, but I can’t. For one thing, Hub took his camera with him to the ball game, and for another, I’m very afraid that I might look too much like Margaret Dumont with a little fur fox-head dangling down the side of her neck.

“Well, that covers a lot of ground. Say, you cover a lot of ground yourself. “

“You better beat it – I hear they’re going to tear you down and put up an office building where you’re standing.”

“You can leave in a taxi. If you can’t get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that’s too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff. “

“You know, you haven’t stopped talking since I came here? You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle.”

“I can see you standing over a hot stove, but I can’t see the stove.”

“Remember men, we’re fighting for this woman’s honour; which is probably more than she ever did.”

“I saw Mrs. Claypool first. Of course, her mother really saw her first but there’s no point in bringing the Civil War into this. “

“I bet your father spent the first year of your life throwing rocks at the stork. “

Etc.

I read somewhere that Margaret Dumont never understood a single joke in any of the Marx Brothers movies. That’s a sad thing, and more so because she was THERE and missed it.

(title and quotations by various Marx Brothers.)