Hey, it’s me, grandmagrandpa. I’ve cried twice over the past couple days, but now, my tears are dry and I’m ready to talk. You might be struggling, too. It’s February, for Gund’s sake. Whenever I talk to any of my friends, I say, “how are you?” and they say, “tired” or “IT’S FINE” or “aaaaAAAAHHhhhh,” which makes me think we’re all in need of a little pep talk. There, there, my sweet. Grandmagrandpa’s here. I promise that you’re going to be okay.
Hello, Kenyon. It is me, your grandmagrandpa Cat! It has come to my attention that a significant portion of you are from California, or Florida, or whatever other fake state kids are making up these days. This means you had no idea what to do in the terrible, horrible cold time of the polar vortex and will probably continue to be silly when the temperature (inevitably) drops again before spring actually arrives. I do not care WHAT the groundhog said. You are not leaving this house without your jacket, young man!
He is the little shadow-kitty parked directly in front of your feet as you walk to Peirce. He is the dirty boy tumbling in the gutters. He is the splash of ebony against a pile of leaves, loafing majestically in the sun. Most importantly, he is Moxie. Everyone loves him and he knows it. He often tricks folks into thinking he is a lost little lamb wandering in the woods. Don’t be fooled. He is smarter than you and he knows exactly what he is doing. Here’s a collection of his adventures.