By Jim Hagarty
Our cat Mario is a shameless belly rub seeker. He especially likes to beg for them while rolling on his back in the sand and dirt on the patio in the backyard. He grabs your hand with both paws and if said bellyrub is not being administered to his liking, he sinks his claws into your hand, often drawing blood. Somehow, still, he gets another rub the next time he needs ones, even if the hand is sporting bandages.
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Author: Jim Hagarty
I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.
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