Working Girl.

I am lucky enough to live steps away from a professional kitty, who lives and works at King's Milk, a convenience store near my house on the corner of King and Spencer Ave.

Let's just say this cat, who I have named Marjory (she must have another name but i'm too shy to ask - you know how i feel about humans) has helped me through some pretty dark days. She loves sleeping in empty chip boxes, and during the winter in front of her heat lamp behind the counter. At night when I stumble drunkenly past King's Milk, she's always looking out from inside her store, to make sure the hooligans don't give me no guff (i can only assume).

This Sunday she took a trip outdoors to see what life is like on the outside.

She was a little scared at first and cowered by a mailbox. 

Then she saw us and we loved it up big time!!!!  I'm not sure if the owners of the store and of Marjory like or understand my relationship with Marge. Maybe they're concerned I distract her from her work? But I pretty much spend millions of dollars there just so I can get to pet her, so they have to tolerate my cat-centric attitude.

She was so into my knee!  Oh, Marge.