ahream

I can hear the “Karate Kid” theme music through the wall. They’re going through the mid-movie training sequence montage as we speak. Wax on, wax off. A tail is simply another appendage with which to kung fu your butt.

They are my neighbors cats. I’m feeding them while she – my neighbor, not the cats – is skiing in Utah. (She also said something about “kitty kisses,” but I have my dignity.)

All was going well until this morning. I like cats, mostly they like me. No blood had been shed. It was a good day. And then one of them got some schmutz in her eye, so I tried to wipe her face with a tissue. That’s when the wheels came off the wagon.

The chubby little Siamese got Mr. Miyagi on my butt. “Waaa! Hiii-yaaa! Hiii-yaa! Hissssss....”

I backed out of the room slowly.

As we speak, she is tying the Daniel-san bandana around her head, tightening her black belt and shadow boxing in front of the food bowl. I’m coming back. She knows it. And she’s getting ready.

As for me, I’m going to the sporting goods store for football pads, a first aid kit and a crash helmet. Pray for me.

ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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