Non-Smoking Kitty

I admit it freely, after my initial excellent start to 2007, I've fallen gloriously off the wagon and been smoking waaay too much lately.

It sucks, but honestly? I really do, what with bathing suit season rapidly approaching, need to do something about that *cough*40*cough* pounds that mentioned in the entry I wrote five minutes ago.

And smoking helps.

I know it's not gooood that it helps. I mean shit, freaking meth or cocaine would help even better, but you don't see me becoming DruggieManchShoes, do you?

But smoking is a lovely, legal way to cut back on the snackage.

Only problem is that if I break my steadfast "no smoking in the apartment" rule, my kitty Butters? Freaks out.

This is a shelter kitty, so I think maybe she had a bad bad owner in a previous live. She's got no tail, and the shelter couldn't tell me how that happened. So now that she's hauling ass out of the room like she's on fire (pun intended) every time I light up? I've developed some theories.

Theory Numero Uno: Bad Bad Previous Owner Burned her tail with cigarettes. It went up in flames. (Okay, sorry, but that sounds kind of funny.) She was so badly damaged they had to hack the thing off.

Well okay, so that's my only theory. Her fully tailed sister, my other (significantly less busted-looking) kitty Chloe, doesn't have any problems with my light-ups.

So it's making me feel a bit guilty.

~puff puff puff~

Just not that guilty...

What?