His House. He’s a worse housekeeper than I am, and that’s saying something.
Yeah, he’s telling us to stay the fuck away from his home.
I would gladly oblige his not so subtle hint, but that dentist is working today, and he’s threatened to call the cops on us at least thrice. So the woods it was. Really, cat ladies can’t catch a break. Fortunately, Homeless Guy is never in residence in the day. Just in case, I fed them away from his home.
If my friend ever comes across him, she will give him hell. I’ve seen her several times pick fights with people she shouldn’t, and I would definitely number this disturbed fellow as someone not to anger.
She once almost stole a can of tuna from his stash and fed it to the cats for spite, but mercifully, she reconsidered. He wouldn’t know if it was me who did it, and unlike her, I don’t have a car to leave quickly in.
To be fair, he moved the cat food station two or three times before he destroyed it. But whenever she’s here, she’d put it back. Perhaps this is commonplace in homeless encampments when territory disputes erupt. The offended party destroys the other person’s property or picks a fight?
Ramblings about my life, my mental health & my physical rehabilitation following my suicide attempt. “They say don’t look back, but sometimes it’s important to see how far you’ve come.”
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