At the time of our encounter I was ushering a door in my mandated khaki best and a collared shirt with all the erotic energy of a public middle school band concert. The event was a movie premiere at Lincoln Center. Some Matt Damon/Ben Affleck flick watched exclusively by dads in those wrinkly leather recliners that smell faintly of Costco peanuts, whisky, and an underlining fear of the great beyond.

While felines hold a special place in my heart, I support all of God’s creatures, including local wildlife, and never want to see them injured or killed. Which is why it pains me to tell the story of Annabelle, a Russian Blue rescue who stole my heart and continues to hold it ransom while living the life of an executioner – not out of necessity but for the love of the kill.

Dear Nathaniel,

I know how much you hate it when I use your real name. You long for me to summon you with damsel-in-distress shouts of “Kool-Aid Man!” or “Hey Kool-Aid!” just like those pasty-faced tweens who hang on your every grand entrance, each time you bulldoze the center field wall, or flatten some white picket fence. I must say: as a fount of energy, you never run dry. And I can’t help but grudgingly admire how you never seem to break, you never lose even a single drop.

Do you tire of your decaying mansions, dusty attics, and all too quiet libraries? Fancy a view of the sea and the comforts of modern habitation? Do you dream of a place where friendly folks will welcome you into their homes and businesses like one of the family?

Look no further!

For your Sunday amusement… a comic!