Sunday Selfie: We Had the Hots

But now it is cooler. As you can see, the warms weren't all bad! I'm still working on that comfortable project, too.

If Only I Could...

get


more


comfortable

Spittola, the Bagman

So the Human delivers groceries for Meals on Wheels, and she's supposed to fold all the bags so they can be reused the following week.
Because she is so lay-zee, she often forgets and then she has two weeks' worth to fold.
Yours truly does nuffing to help, you understand, but I do enjoy taking a lot of entertaining sniffs and generally getting in the way. 
She says "Spitty!" in an annoyed tone, but honestly, what is she gonna do about it? Shove me aside? Not unless she wants her eyes clawed out.

And Thank You all for your kind words about our Lord Chancellor. The Human showed the blog post to his Dad today and he was very touched and grateful.

Vaya Con Dios, My Lord Chancellor

Our beloved friend Fritzie, 19, our stalwart Lord Chancellor, was helped across the Bridge yesterday. His loving and devoted dad and the Human stayed with him to supply plenty of love and brushies and gentle pets as he embarked on his journey. Fritzie was a Very Good Boy and a most excellent Lord Chancellor of the Realm. As you can see in the portrait above, taken August 7, he was a handsome and imperial ManCat. There was a notable ripple in the force as he took flight, and I know he'll be waiting for me when it is My Time. We'll love you always, Fritzie.

Sunday Selfie: I Can't Heeeeear You

So, as you can see, I no longer have ears. But no mind.  No, I have bigger problems than that, Kitties. Yes, you got it in one: Since last Sunday, we posted once. Once. She says it's better than zero. 
I say that's one heck of a low bar, my furiends, the lowest of the low. However, my moustachios are looking pretty delightful, don't you think?

The Troof, the Whole Troof & Nuffing But the Troof

All right, all right! I confess. I did! I did do it!

But it was still ALL HER FAULT.

For some unfathomable reason, she picked me up like a sack of potatoes and started carting me around the house with her. By the time we got to the kitchen, I had had it with the sightseeing tour and made a break for it.

Can anyone blame me if I used the palm of her hand as my launch pad?

I rest my case.

Sunday Selfie: The Fault Lies Not In Our Stars

And most certainly not in Yours Truly, my friends.

*I* had nuffing to do with it. 

Nope. It is All.Her.Own.Fault.