Now that my cat, Collette, no longer has the David Crosby CD to scratch, she has turned to her next favorite musical pastime--pulling the jewel case of Kate Rusby's CD, "10," apart.
I'm choosing to believe it's because Collette can't wait to hear live, remastered, and other alternate versions of Rusby's songs, sung with her customary sensitivity.
Perhaps I'm being naively optimistic to think that way. Actually, I'm being realistic, as I've moved the CD to another room.
