When you consider that I’ve owned cats for the past year, and that I’m lazy enough to leave stacks of baseball cards laying around the living room and spare room, it’s pretty remarkable that this Sidney Ponson card was the first significant victim of those exploratory claws and teeth. I only have myself to blame, as I had left a box of late 1990s Orioles open on the guest bed with Sir Sidney sticking straight up as a placeholder so that I might easily place the Danny Clyburn card I’d pulled to scan a few weeks back. I never got around to it, so the portly Aruban hurler was just hanging out there in the open, taunting a couple of house pets who enjoy pawing anything within reach. (Of course, the mystery assailant could have been making a personal statement about his distaste for the boorish behavior and oft-subpar performance of Mr. Ponson.) Homer, the more spastic of the pair, has knocked piles of unsorted cards off of the top of my DVD rack on multiple occasions, and I know that I have to be vigilant when he’s poking around in that vicinity. I’ll say it one more time: I need to get my organization and cataloguing act in gear. If I need any further motivation, I’ll refer to this card…and this picture of Charlie hovering menacingly over my incomplete 1972 Topps set.