I recently read somewhere that people who have cats are 30% less likely to have heart attacks.
What they didn’t address in that article is whether people who have cats are 30% MORE likely to have a stroke after they step in a cold pile of cat vomit in the middle of the night. I’m going to guess the answer to that is YES.
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I went upstairs yesterday morning to put the barrier up across the hallway and let Maura out of her room. As I went up the stairs, all four Bookworms and Jake followed me. I tried to keep them on the other side of the barrier, but it was like holding back a tide of cute, and finally I threw up my hands and declared that I guessed it was time for Maura to have the run of the house.
It went pretty well. She had little patience for the other cats getting up in her face, but no one got pushy with her, and she spent most of her time walking around the house exploring.
Maura in the Maura Cave, in the corner of the kitchen.
Poor Stinkerbelle – at one point Maura was sitting in the front room, and Stinkerbelle caught sight of her and I don’t know if she just loves all black cats, or she thought Maura was Tommy, but she tried to go over to Maura. Maura growled at her. You could see the confusion on Stinkerbelle’s face when Maura growled at her, because Stinkerbelle’s usually the one growling at other cats. She kept trying to get close to Maura, and Maura kept growling, so eventually Stinkerbelle gave up and climbed up to the top of her bookcase and pondered this strange turn of events.
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Reacher is obsessed – OBSESSED! – with the trash can.
He likes to hang out in the trash can, sniff around at the pieces of crumpled paper towel, and then climb out with one of them in his mouth. Then he bats it across the room, uncrumples it, and leaves it there.
Reacher, hiding beside the refrigerator. A stampede of big cats went through the kitchen, which scared him, and he went to his safe place.
All four of the Bookworms were sleeping in one bed. Jake got up on my desk, surveyed the situation… and then climbed into the cat bed and laid down on top of them. Three of them scattered, but Bolitar just stayed where he was.
The Bookworms are all obsessed with my recycling container. They love to climb in there, sleep, look around, bat at magazine covers, and then climb back out. I don’t get the obsession, but they aren’t the first kittens to do that. I’m sure they won’t be the last, either!
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Newt, coming to see if perhaps it’s snack time.
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Previously
2009: Elijah and Phinneas would like you to know that it’s endlessly exhausting to be so cute.
2008: Pile o’ monkehs.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.