John Czarnecki and I played War Memorial Golf Course this morning and early afternoon. I scored 86 and John 106. I had nines of 46 and 40, with 4 pars, 6 bogies, and 8 doubles, and I used 34 putts.
Early this evening, I walked Levy Trail South in 34:55.
By the way, I adopted a cat yesterday from Little Rock Animal Village, which is off the final street you take to drive into First Tee. He's a seven-month-old tabby, a textbook gray tiger. He seems absolutely crazy about me. I think he's wonderful,* but he didn't eat a thing yesterday. Nothing. I bought three different bags of cat food, and he wouldn't touch any of it. I had some canned cat food left over from Jo, but he wouldn't eat that either. Finally, this morning, I got him to eat a few slivers of canned sardines. After golf, I made him a sardine-canned salmon version of the stuff I fed Pam for a while, with rice, green beans, and carrots, but heavier on fish, and he got into it pretty good. A little later, he made a minor dent in some dry stuff, so I'm not quite as worried as I sit here with him watching the Red most likely lose another close game.
I was going to name him Chuck after the Chuck Pet Smart screwed over thirteen years ago, but I spent all day yesterday calling him Jo. Before I went to bed, I decided, fuck it, I'll just call him Joe.
*Joe meows a bit too much, like every time I leave a room he's in. He slept with me last night, but I woke up at 4:45 with him curled up on the pillow against my face, purring like two motherfuckers. I believe those are minor flaws he can work on. Furthermore, he's gone back to the dry food bowl a couple of more times tonight, so I'm relieved
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