AW Cats

At the Clown House, we inherited a cat called Pugsly. It did well living among clowns, and the many tree sitter/crusty punks all who roll with packs of dogs that frequent old school Clown House. The cat did not survive the move to Alberta Street. It was killed by a car right away. We had a clown funeral as we buried Pugs in a vacant lot at midnight. It was a fine circus sendoff. Years later a sign appeared in the lot. It was proclaiming the building of...a building. Grudgingly I knew it was up to me to go down there and dig our cat up before some giant gentrification prize went up. I dug the cat up, brought it home, showed it to my kids and buried it in The Clown House yard. A year or two later we were classed out of the house when the rent went up $500 suddenly. I dug Pugs up again and just kept his skull. I still have it. :) Cats right? Mhmmm.
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