On a Monday night a couple of weeks ago, I was just finishing the seemingly endless bedtime routine. Even though I hadn’t done anything strenuous that day, I was so ready to fall into bed, but after I’d fed the cats, one look at their favorite litter box in the laundry room told me I’d better not skip that step tonight.
I squirted my nightly dropper of CBD oil into one side of my mouth and held it there for the two minutes it took to scoop out a shocking quantity of pee clumps. The second box was empty, as usual. Dumb cats.
I swallowed the oil and scrubbed my hands thoroughly through two mental choruses of “Happy Birthday.” Allyson and I had already read the Bible and prayed, so in one more minute I could stretch out on my memory foam mattress, topped with a cool-gel memory foam topper. Ahhh, I sighed as I dried my hands.
On my way out of the kitchen, some motion in my peripheral vision stopped me in my tracks. It was CiCi, cavorting under the table. I smiled. As much fun as she was having, you would’ve thought we’d given her some catnip. What was she playing with?
Since I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I had to lean in close to find out. Ugh! Here was her plaything.
