Rhino begged to go out onto the porch, so I chucked him into a foot and a half of snow and this was the face he immediately made at me. I love him.

He cannot choose

Donut baby

When will I internalize the fact that every year of my life there will be a late snow that packs into one week the same crushing depressive power as four months of winter? Despite being an adult living in Chicago for half of my life, this surprises me every time.

I feel like this Junji Ito panel is a good feel for what's going on with my own cat's neck situation.