I have to warn you. The following is a very disturbing photograph taken at our family Christmas gathering in 2002. I ran across it recently, and I was stunned by what a saw.
"But, Lisa", you say, "what's so upsetting about this picture?" I know, I know, it's a lovely shot of our family enjoying each other as we always do. There are "the sisters", nieces and nephews, grandma in the background, and that gorgeous fluffy kitty cat I'm snuggling.
I emailed both of my sisters, attaching the picture and asking if they could tell me what was wrong with it. They both knew instantly.
That sweet little kitty cat is the problem.
The very fact that I am brave enough to be holding her, on her back no less, and scritching her neck has to say something about my mental health. Either that or there was too much rum in the toddy.
The very fact that that kitty cat is ALLOWING me to do those evil things to her is astonishing, to say the least.
That kitty cat likes one person, and one person only. That person is my mother. In kitty cat's opinion, everyone else must die. She will even take pot shots at you while you are attempting to feed her.
That kitty cat's name is Reba.
Remember it and...
Be afraid. Be very afraid.