Before I share my cat story, I want to let you know about a petition that I've signed that you may want to check out.
I must thank Pam for letting me know about AVAAZ and the petition.
If you haven't already guessed, it's about Russia's war in Ukraine.
Here's the link: https://secure.avaaz.org/campaign/en/stop_the_war_loc/?cZnQVsb
And here's another piece I wrote in a ten minute 'on-the-spot' writing challenge during an Uxbridge Writers' Circle meeting:
Beluga, the fat grey cat, sat on the windowsill looking much like an overstuffed furry pillow with whiskers, and watched the family leave for the cottage again.
Looking at him, one couldn't see the frown on his face, but the fury flashed in his eyes and twitched along his whiskers. They had left him alone once too often and he was going to show them!
He thought of the Big Plan as he sat staring at a chickadee which looked far too cheerful. But, since he couldn't reach him, he closed his eyes and focused on the plan.
He woke up with a start as the grandfather clock struck. He must have had a nap. He stretched, yawned, landed with a thud on the wooden floor, and waddled to his food dish. Just that foul dry food awaited him. Where was the fresh fish?
Beluga remembered he'd been left again and recalled the Great Plan.
The first thing on the list was to leave grey hair liberally spread on Anne's new white bedspread.
He lapped at the water which was lukewarm, not cold how he liked it, and then heaved himself up the stairs. The bounce had gone out of his step. He clawed his way up the side of the bed, hanging onto the bedspread. Exhausted, he curled up in a dip between the pillows and fell asleep.
"Beluga!" Jenny called. "We're home!"
The Great Plan was put on hold again.