Poor Cat

The Blackhawks ceremony was on the television while I put away my laundry.  (Yeah, yeah.  Exciting Saturday night.  Shut up.)  When they introduced the commissioner, the crown booed. 

A Chicago crowd booed the commissioner of the NHL.  Not cool.

I shouted, “Hey!”  at the television.  And the cat bolted off my bed and out of the room.  I felt badly, as the game wasn’t even on yet. 

He just walked back in the room, stopped in the doorway and gave me a hard look.   I said, “It’s ok, Spooky.  It’s only hockey.”  He flipped his tail in the air, turned around and stalked out.

Honestly – I’m not that bad with hockey.

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