09 Throw

Home, I was finally home. I got in just to find a mini hurricane in progress, by the name of storm. How one tiny kitty could make so much damage in the space of an hour was beyond me. Even me in all my glorious clumsiness, I did not make that much damage in a day.

At least he hadn’t shredded anything today. Small mercies and all that.

I picked up the throw pillows and threw them onto my afghan throw on the couch, and settled in. The little rascal came in and nestled into the blanket, happy as pie and ready to sleep after his fun day of destruction. The toilet paper left between his claws would be something future me would have to worry about.