Mike's friend, Tess, made him a piece of artwork.
Mike brought it home for safe-keeping.
I fell in love.
Everything about that piece says, "Mike."
I asked if I could hang it in my office.
He said, "sure".
Me being me, I wanted to shoot it first.
So I propped it up on a stool near the window and started the process.
I liked the texture of the blue and black drippy-thingies.
I loved that his posture, down to the way his mouth looks, was so much my boy I could almost feel him.
And that's when kitty disaster struck.
Amos, racing around, decided the stool would be the perfect place to zoom over on his way to the window.
And the artwork wound up on the floor.
It happened so fast, and I didn't have my camera anywhere near ready to shoot.
The only evidence I have of that cat's culpability is this, the Steve Urkel, "Did I do that?" sniff.
That's a cup one of the kids made in art class years ago. It's lumpy. I love it.
And so I'm left with part of a piece of artwork.
That damned cat.