You really are kinda disturbed, aren’t you?
You can’t shipp a cat.
My current (stupid) cat came to me declawed. And his teeth were in such bad shape, he had to have them removed. I have to be extra, EXTRA vigilant to make sure he doesn’t slip outside!
He’s always at the losing end of any argument with my daughter’s cats. With no teeth and no claws, that’s a given.
When his brother was alive, the two of them would get into terrible screaming matches. His brother was also declawed, and had had all of his teeth except one removed. One time the two of them were having a horrible “discussion,” and my daughter-in-law said, “Aren’t you going to do anything?”
I said, “Why? With no teeth and no claws, all they can do is yell!”
~VOW
Furries can.
(I’ll let myself out now…)
Little too much time out in the heat this week combined with catching a bit of “1984” on the telly last night…
You’re right though, of course. The reference to a movie was completely out of tune with the musical references that comprised the bulk of my post.
And yet…
Have you ever noticed how they appear unexpectedly in a part of the room you know was empty a second ago?
You scare me.
The fallen kind, one assumes.
Well, no real need for assuming. I mean, they ARE cats.
Speaking of Siamese, here’s Allie.
SQUEEE!!! They’re both adorable!
See my previous post for a picture of Allie.
I’m reasonably sure cat-and-human marriages are illegal in all 50 States, Associated states, Overseas territories, Military instalations in foreign lands… what I’m not sure of is where did the caps pattern come from but fuckit, it’s 6am.
He’s an unruly guy, too …
Bear tried to break into shed again.
Wait, I scare YOU? You ain’t got nuthin to be scared of from me, Mrs. Wrekker Oakley.
No Ma’am, y’all can shoot, sides, Mama (backed up by Grandma too!) raised me better than that.
Besides, I make it a policy to never actually interfere with a person who calls their SO “Bear” and serves them whiskey at 5am;)
Bear is the male cat. Meeko is the female. Mr.Wrekker is Mr.Wrekker.
Dork you’re ok!
i used to tell my now deceased most favoritest kitty that if she didn’t behave she was going back to the depot alley she was found in at least once a day…
I currently have Hope on the left arm of my armchair, and Tigger on the right arm of my armchair.
I sit between, and feel like the front steps of the New York Public Library.
I’m often in that position too. And I thought the same thing.
Today I had one foot under me and one leg stretched out. Both cats tried to fit on my one thigh. It was a bit of war with hissing. I just sat there thinking this is their war but I’m the one who will bleed.
We all feel like Belgium some days.
I ain’t even got a garage, you can call home and ask my wife.
I recently posted an open letter on Facebook addressed to my younger cat. In it, I praised his beautiful fur coat and commented on how proud of it he must be seeings how he left samples of it on all of the furniture. I then told him that if he didn’t stop biting my ankles every time I walked past him, I was going to turn that beautiful fur coat into a beautiful throw pillow. He called my bluff. He’s now sitting on the back of the couch, smirking at my bleeding ankles and shedding more fur samples for everyone to admire.
Our cats are trying to nap on the carpet, occasionally rudely interrupted by thunder.