From the moment I saw the ad announcing Purina was looking for their first Cat Chow Correspondent, I knew it was destiny. Traveling the country, talking to people about cats, looking at cats, educating people about cats... Hello?? Might as well start writing my name on the pay slip now.
The perfect thing about the position is that it's a one-year post. In, out, done. Ideal for us "bored after we get good at something" types. (Blair, of course, had to weigh in with his comment which was, "I don't know. It's a paying position. Don't you try to avoid things like that?" Oh, the joys of living with a comedian.)
Do I even want the job? I don't know. I haven't been able to find a lot of details about what's involved. But of course once I decided I would apply just for fun, my competitive juices kicked in. Must... win... cat chow... position.
Part of the application asked for a short video explaining why you think you would be good for the role. Blair hauled out the camera yesterday and we shot a quick 2-minute video. The cats--who fear the video camera along with the vacuum, doorbell, feather duster, and high-heeled shoes--disappeared during filming, but we awarded them brief cameos at the end.
So please, join my campaign to convince Purina to hire me as their go-to roving-cat-reporter on the streets. Watching the video on YouTube and liking it would be a big help, as would passing on the link or leaving a comment along the lines of, "Wow. This person just screams 'Cat Chow Correspondent' to me. How could you even think of hiring anyone else?"
And c'mon. Think of the blog posts I'll write if I land this thing. Let the wit and hilarity begin.
Cheers,
Dena
Seven pounds gone. That's the goal I set for myself after finishing the Myrtle Beach Marathon. Why 7 pounds? Why not five or twelve or eight? I don't know. I just know I want to lose some weight and the number seven popped into my head as a reasonable goal. 
