Taking a night off

This is Tiger, the neighborhood stray we took in on Christmas night. The vet tells us she is about 12 years old. She’s lived outside every one of those years. She has four teeth. Now she lives inside with us and our four cats and Ruby.

See the look on her face? That’s the way I feel right now. I am drained emotionally from the past year, from the bloody month in Minneapolis, from what is being done to our country by a man who is so low, I wouldn’t bother to scrape him off the bottom of my shoe if I stepped on him. And I’m mad as hell.

It is 8 degrees outside. Tracy and I are going to cook up some chicken and white bean and escarole stew, and we’re going to pet Tiger and make sure she is warm and feels welcome in this house. We are Democrats. Everyone is welcome here, just as everyone is welcome to read my column for free, although it would be nice if a few readers pitched in $5 a month to help support the bean stew and Ruby and the cats, who now include an old lady called Tiger, who has the same attitude about the world I do — don’t mess with me and those I love.