I don't know about you, but I'm all Trumped-out.
The whole country is learning how exhausting it can be to live with a seriously mentally ill person: The constant feeling of apprehension and unease over what kind of manipulative, delusional nonsense is coming next. The uncertainty about how to react. Definitely remove all weapons and secure potentially dangerous drugs. Will calling the police make things better, or worse? Is it too early to seek order of commitment? Or too late? If the judge denies it, then what?
If the analogy makes you angry, tough. You and that scrofulous twit Steve Bannon can both take a hike. He's the Trump apparatchik who says the press should keep its mouth shut. I've been hearing from knuckleheads like him as long as I've written this column. Fat chance.
Because crazy people tend to be cunning and tireless, it's important to take reality breaks. So this is a column about my 6-year-old orange tabby, Albert, the most unusual cat I've known. Albert's had major life adjustments to make over the past year, and he's handled them with creativity and aplomb.