Backpacking and Bipolar II. Taking Manic Depression on tour.
Today my friend came home and as he sheepishly entered the kitchen he began whispering
“Close that door… Close that door…”
Wondering what was going on I rose and did as I was asked. It was only then, dear reader, that I noticed a grey, furry epaulette near Steve’s left ear! He had a kitten sat on his shoulder, much in the way a pirate keeps his parrot, or did before they went out of fashion. Modern pirates have no flair at all, but the aesthetic deficiencies of our contemporary ocean bandits are subject for another post entirely.
|Molly the curious moggy. Scheven weeksch old.|
Steve had been in the post office in Malanda when a young girl of about eleven had come in carrying a kitten and asked if anyone wanted to buy her. Steve later said it was the easiest decision he had ever made. He bought the kitten for Eileen for Christmas and she loves her. We named her Molly.