I Love Me My Capes!

Baseball Bow Tie o’ the Day tells you I’m ready for Summer to get its butt here ASAP. It’s not just the cold. It’s the mud. Skitter brings mud into the house every time she comes in from pottying. I have to dust pan and Swiffer at least three times a day. It’s not as if I can tell Skitter to remove her paws before she enters the house. And training her to wipe her feet ain’t gonna happen.

The most important part of this post photo is clearly my newest Suzanne-made cape. The clash it adds to my shirt, tips the scales way over the clash-snappy limit. I win. Whatever the fashion competition, I win. My cape is a superpower all by itself. I haven’t had it long enough to have determined exactly what superpowers it gives me, but I’ll let you know when I find out.

I can say for sure that when I wore it in MCR last week, a few residents did stop in mid-sentence to gaze at its billowy, unfurled-ness as I passed through the halls. It at least has the power to cause momentary speechlessness.

The cape didn’t make Mom one bit speechless though. She complimented the cape, then she went on and on about what a talented seamstress Suzanne is. There I was, in person, with Mom in her room, after driving 2 1/2 hours to visit her, and all Mom could talk about was Suzanne. Of course, all I talked about was Suzanne too. And Skitter. We talked about Skitter, who Mom couldn’t quit petting.

Skitter had to get used to my capes when I began wearing them a few months ago. They whoosh around as I walk, and they are large compared to coats. Occasionally, a cape hem brushes across Skitter’s back. It frightened her at first, but she learned to tolerate it. She tolerates the entire cape thing now because she has no choice .

I usually wear a coat when I take The Skit for her walkies. But for the rest of the outside world, I wear a cape. When I drape a cape on my shoulders, she knows she’s not going anywhere (except when we visit Mom). When I put on a cape to go out alone or with Suzanne, Skitter puts on her I-know-I’m-not-invited, pouty face. I think Skitter blames the capes for her being left alone– as if they’re my new pets and I’m taking them for secret walkies without her. Perhaps Skitter needs her own personal cape to wear, and to play with when I’m not home. I’ll speak to Suzanne, the resident seamstress, about that.

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