Meter, five twenty-seven
Which should I believe?
(Sadly, the meter is correct)
ETA: WTF? Even after entering the meter reading and eating lunch, the sensor is still alarming and telling me I am 80. And of COURSE, I forgot to grab that extra bottle of strips before I left the house today and am now all out…
Donut entered our lives on a cold and windy night in early December. I found him in a strip mall parking lot. I went to see if he had a collar on, since he looked way too fat to be a stray.
Turns out he was a stray. A stray who was living on hand-outs from Dunkin’ Donuts. Believe it or not, he’s still a kitten, which means he may be larger than your average golden retriever by the time he’s done.
He’s obnoxious to the other cats, has almost taken my hand off when I tried to keep him from getting outside again, has a purr that could melt glaciers, and tolerates P’ito’s abuse without blinking. Behold.