When I got back to the homestead from the Big Apple things were going really well. My anger management was under control. I had kicked my separation anxeity problem. I had even taken over the homestead house again – running up and down the hallway all day chasing imaginary items.
Then my Moms put me back in the Benz and hauled off me to Durham. I never told you guys about our place in Durham, but my Moms has another house in North Carolina she takes me to sometimes. I like it okay. But, ever since she brought me here I’ve been in a deep depression.
“Alfred! Alfred!” My moms called me. It was 2 pm in the afternoon, and I still hadn’t come out from under the bed covers – my main hiding place in the Durham town house. “Cat Man, you can’t sleep all day. You’ve been in bed since early evening yesterday. You’re going to have to come out at some point and deal with your fears,” my Moms said, trying to reason with me.
What? The King deal with his fears? I don’t think so. As far as I’m concerned, I can deal with everything right here under the covers.
When I am up and about in the Durham town house I run from window to window trying to figure out what wild cat has the nerve to come near my Moms’s house. One of the key reasons, my Moms liked the house was for its big windows that start low, close to the ground and go almost up to the ceiling. But, I just make myself sick running from window to window trying to see what’s going on.
After an hour or two of this, I collapse in the bed, under the covers in deep depression…