Animals

Miss Sugar fast asleep on a sheepskin on top of a grey and white ottoman

Fortnight Hibernation

It’s Father who breaks the news to me. First, he calls me his Little Sweetie. Although he does it often, it always brings a smile. Then, he marvels over the beauty of my little face. Again, nothing new. He rests his forehead on mine so I can take in a deep breath of his scent – these days it’s a mix of a wood fire, CK cologne, and of course, bacon. And just when I’m purring like a motor and reveling in his attention, he tells me he and Mother are going away for two weeks.

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Tuesday Sweets With Miss Sugar – October 29

My people have never attempted to dress me up for special occasions. I think they know better. They wouldn’t dare force me to wear something spooky on Halloween, nor will they adorn me with a fuzzy sweater or boots this winter. (I don’t venture outside, after all.) But there is one item I wouldn’t shake off if placed on my perfect head: a cowboy hat.

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Miss Sugar splayed out on a quilted furniture cover over a black leather couch

Miss Sugar’s Moving Diary – Entry #8

I love Father more than treats, my bacon toy or kibble. Perhaps you know the history, perhaps you don’t. Mother adopted me on her birthday a few years ago. She waited for me to get well because when we met, I was wearing an ugly cone and experiencing some gastric distress. When I finally came home with her and laid eyes on Father, I knew I’d found my protector and BFF for life. Mother says tiny hearts flew up like sparks between us. But I have to confess that I’ve developed a crush on another man.

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Miss Sugar’s Moving Diary – Entry #5

I’ve been busy, dear readers, applying my fur to every square inch of this generously-sized apartment. The carpet is a cat-hair-hiding beige, but there’s also a large, dark rug to roll on. It is my personal goal that eventually each piece of this rented domicile will experience the joy of my spiky hair.

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