Boots Martin,
Insistent there must be kitty food near,
Last night I had brought in from kitchen large can of tuna,
I knew it would be a free fir all on my lap if I opened it,
However one of the oldest was hungry,
So with cation to the wind,
I lifted the box with dad’s P35,
WWII pocket can opener seventy seven year old a wee bit rusty can ooener,
Proceeded to unlock the wonders that lay resting in the juice that contains the succulent meat of the ocean,
Brought home to northern Iowa vie human inventive mine,
A sealed can,
When I was a kid ‘Charlie’ was the name of the tuna guy on the can,
I just looked before I gave Sophie the last of the can,
Charlie’s characture still resides upon the can,
Sophie’s done is upon a tub of books my product taking a cat bath,
Our Amish girl wasn’t interested in a nibble,
Other kitties will get Salmon,
Minus my bite,
Honey our wonder of Cedar Rapids is taking care of the rest of the can,
I have stopped writing on my other WordPress,
I hate that Verizon phone,
I had in repetition wrote three hundred and eighty some days which is incorrect,
I have written every day a numerous amount since 1985-2023 so thirty eight years,
[38×365]=13870 days written so far in this life,
Need a nap,
Val Whitewolf 