Sometimes you really don’t need a reason to post a picture. It speaks for itself.
Still…
My sister Becki has an evil cat. His name is “Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.” Everyone calls him “Scream” for short. He is the bane of my sister’s existence. It’s the only creature on God’s Earth meaner than she is. I think they keep each other alive with a daily battle of wills.
This cat knows how to open the refrigerator. He has stolen kielbasas and stroganoff. And when Becki catches him, he runs faster than you could imagine a fat cat running, sits in a corner and glowers at her.
“Maaaaaahhhhhhoooooooooowwwwww!”
When I first met Scream years ago, Bexter told me not to get my hopes up about the cat “taking to me”. I was staying at her place for the night, and when she got up in the morning, Scream was sitting on my chest on the couch, eyes closed, purring as I stroked him.
“YOU TRAITOR!” Becki hollered. Scream opened his eyes wide and ran.
When I lived with her for a short while six years ago, I would come home with tasty treats for Scream and his sister, Dusty Springfield. (“Dusty” for short.) They got to know me as “Uncle Burger.”
The reason for the mask? Bex has a home veterinarian visit set for this weekend. Seems Scream has a bit of a skin problem. The vet tried to show her this cute little kitty muzzle with tiny, thin spaghetti straps.
“Oh, you’re cute,” Becki told the vet. “Scream would eat those in two seconds, then shred the both of us.”
So, she bought the device you see in the photo. And she will put it on him before the vet visit.
Nobody gotta git HURT that way.



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