Oh Won’t You Stay Just A Little Bit Longer

Stay home a bit longer, just for another month or so. Good grief. I mean, who would have thought this would be our life now? The cat is pretty happy about this whole deal. She climbs up on the couch beside me every morning, having learned the routine established two very long weeks ago. I say climbs up because she is now past the jump up stage. I don’t like to think about what this means. I’m the bury your head in the sand type. I keep saying this will be my last cat but, even as I say it, I see a neighborhood post pop up asking for someone to adopt the cat of a recently-deceased elderly neighbor, and I waver. This is a black and white kitty that looks like Sylvester. “You want a sister?”, I ask my cat. I find that I talk to my pets a lot more since the whole stay at home thing. She does, at least, acknowledge this nap interruption with a half-hearted meow. If I could translate this, it would be, “Oh, hell no,” because she despises all other animals. She only looks up occasionally to bat at my iPad pencil when I’m drawing, which I’m not right now. Yesterday, I got in a real funk when I learned one of my favorite people, John Prine, was in critical condition with this horrible virus. It’s hard to draw cartoons when you’re worried. But, today, I am trying to think positively, so I will start again. I draw sitting on the couch, all slumped over in the corner, a secret I keep from my art teacher who would be appalled. He draws standing up at an easel like you’re suppose to. Yep. So, wish me luck. You people stay home, wash your hands, read cartoonist blogs. This, too, will pass.