sparky

My cat, Serena (aka Sena), would have been more aptly named Sparky this past week and a half.

No, I didn't find out that she is a he. She's been around thirteen years this April and I had her fixed quite a while ago. And she hasn't been acting like a yippy little dog named Sparky, either. But every time I've touched her, we've both been sparked. It's dry, dry, dry here in my college town, and being 10 degrees with a -8 degree wind chill isn't helping matters.

Ahh, but it is Rhonda to the rescue again, although this rescue attempt makes me feel somewhat old. I had the bright idea to buy a humidifier. So, for $28.89 + tax at my local Target (that's French, you know), I have solved this latest animal dilemma. It's been plugged in (and running) for about three hours now, and--voila! (also French--or maybe Italian)--no more Sparky. As for the old thing--how many young people do you know that go around buying humidifiers??? And as a bonus I've included a pic of my adorable fat cat.