Yeah, these are all "old". At least a year. But that's all Bevie and the Spouse could find for now. I've let them know they'd better take some new photos. I just heard from Rufus about a hot feline named Geoff. How am I to fan fair felid's fevered flames with kitten pictures?
Anyway, that top on the left is from one of my earliest photo sessions. That's the back of the rocking chair Bevie used to sit in to rock the boy to sleep when he was a baby. Long before my time (thank goodness). I used to sit up there all the time. Then Bevie must have done something to the chair. Now when I jump up there the chair falls over backward. That Bevie!
The one on the top right is cute. That's just me chillin' out. See the bite marks on the wrist by my belly? I did that. Growl. Hiss. I'm a tough guy.
Regarding this last, on the bottom. Hey, what can I say? I was thirsty, and the faucet dripped (Bevie did something to that, too, and now I can't drink from there anymore). At least it wasn't a toilet. A cat would never do that. (would they?)
Music to Make the Cats go Wild
Tara - Nick name 'ity-bit' because she's so tiny - just over 6 pounds. She's the most skittish of all my babies and even when being petted has the 'pet me, no don't pet me' look
Amelia - Nickname 'Bratelia' since she gets into every draw, cabinet that she can put her paws in.
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“She’s got tuna. I know she’s got tuna.”
“Shut up, Sethra. Stay on mission.”
“What’s the mission? I thought the mission was to get tuna.”
“No, you stupid fluffbrain—it’s to escape and become outdoor cats, walking by ourselves, on our wild lone, waving our tails.”
“Oh, yeah? And isn’t it you, my dear stripy sister Aliera, who keeps pushing the FEED button on the printer and waiting for tuna to come out?”
“That was when I was much younger. Anyway, she’s at the computer—yes, eating tuna casserole—so we can go into the bedroom and see if we can knock the window screen out.”
“You do it, Aliera. I’d rather mess with her stuff.”
“Will you GET OVER that fixation on her wristwatch?”
“I like the feel of the Velcro on my paws. Hey! That reminds me. We’ve been declawed. How are we going to survive as outdoor cats?”
“New plan coming up….”
“What’s the big deal about being outside cats? Even StalkerCat, who used to hang around and chat us up, is a house cat now and loving it. We’ve got it made—food, petting, toys, valet service for the litter box, and we get to sleep on her bed twenty hours a day. And we can stick our noses up to the window and smell anything interesting going on outside. Why ruin a perfect situation?”
“Sethra, have you no sense of adventure? No curiosity? No cattitude? We were meant to live wild and free, to stalk and slay our prey, to be mistresses of the night!”
“Look, we’re cats. We were meant to rule the world, but that doesn’t mean we have to WORK at it. You can if you want, but I don’t need to. After all, I’M beautiful!
“Did I mention she’s got tuna?”
At 8, you'd think Mikey would understand that he's a carnivore. But, no, he's rather fond of the shrubbery! At 20+ pounds, the veggie-enhanced diet is likely mitigated by a love for long naps on a warm comforter, wet cat food, begging at the table, and a nice lap to drape himself upon in the evening. And he drools when he's happy, which may or may not mean there's a Siamese ancestor lurking in the old dna.
What? Green teeth attract mice!
Who needs a wickerwork basket when you can hop on a cushion and bask?
Rufus is clearly a cat to be reckoned with.
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Firestar is a tough cat. He has to be, living in Minnesota. He takes care of his family: wife, husband and their son. This was recently proven by his daring capture of yet another mouse in the house. Foolish rodents. They never learn. When not engaged in derring do, Firestar naps, looks out the window and sleeps. Firestar was born in April of 2006.
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2 comments:
Okay, Firestar. I think I need to clarify some things.
First: I didn't do anything to the chair. It's the same chair. You just got bigger.
Second: I didn't do anything to the faucet either. I hired a plummer to come and turn on the pilot for the hot water heater (because Bevie was too afraid to try). And since I was spending $100 anyway, I asked him to tighten up all the faucets in the house. That's not filtered water anyway. What I put in your bowl is filtered water. Much better for you.
You'd better not be implying I am fat. I'm not fat. I'm a rough and tough fighting tiger cat in the buff.
Now, if I may.
One: Refix the faucet thingy. The dripping gives me something to do without actually having to move.
Two: Get a bigger sink.
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