This was supposed to be a portrait of a Momma and her Booger. Booger WAS looking at the camera, but then decided to turn and give his Momma a perplexed “What the-?” look.
Since I have nothing else to offer, and I’d like to clear off my memory stick, I offer a ton and a half of pictures for your perusal.
I think Frick briefly had herself a crush on the new guy. She was following him around an awful lot. Unfortunately, he seems to have an eye for the blondes, and Frick decided she didn’t want any guy who’d have his head turned by those flashy hos, and she lost interest.
Miss Momma likes to spend her days sleeping here. Good thing Fred made those steps for Spot, huh?
There is a basket not four feet away into which Sugarbutt’s butt will comfortably fit. But no. NO. He has to sleep in the basket of toys. Note that at least his nail caps are color coordinated with the wall.
Da Poo wonders when Nance will come and rescue her from having to share the attention with OTHER CATS. The HORROR.
As long as you’re comfy, Boog.
Poor Frick, she’s so ratty looking. She’s apparently molting.
Newt jumped up on top of the canning cupboard to get away from the other cats. That didn’t last long. I actually put that basket up there because it was in the living room and the cats were chewing on it. So much for that.
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Previously
2006: No entry.
2005: Mister Boogers likes to live dangerously.