Friday Was Black Cat Appreciation Day?

Was it? Really? Huh. Not like there was a pawty around here or nuffing. As usual, a day late and several chick-hens short. Well, back to my nap, then.

Crocheted Aila

Yes, my Finnish LadyCat Aila (click to see her, center top) instructed her Aiti to make me a Aila that I could keep in my very own home (instead of 5000+ miles away, in Oulu, Finland). While she is not *quite* as glorious as the real deal, I do like to sniff and paw and rub her. And I purr loudly as I do. Do you think maybe she can hear me?

Toofy Tuesday

With my FLH, but minus an ear.

Minus the  FLH, plus an ear.

What's going on here?

Sunday Selfie: Me and My F.L.H.

So, let me tell you the tale of the F.L.H. It all goes back to when I was just a little boy, and the Dad of Wally, Aggie and Maidie took a gander at yours truly and said, "Oh, he has a Freakishly Large Head." Surprisingly, the Human leaped to my defense and said, "He most certainly does not have any such thing!"
But then today she took *this* picture and she said, "Huh."

But c'mon, it's just a bad angle! Right? Right?

Outside Lands Inside

What I currently look like:

What I wish I looked like:

Each August, a dreadful & deafening delightful and dazzling three-day (very loud) music festival called Outside Lands comes to Golden Gate Park, very near Chez Spittola. It attracts in the neighborhood of 200,000 attendees, and honestly, we bear them no ill-will. The Human remembers (dimly) what it was like to be young and excited at the prospect of music in the park. 
Now that she is elderly and more than a little cranky, she silently shouts, "Get off my lawn, you dang whippersnappers!" But she puts on her game face and says, "Only three days...only three days...only three days."
Me, I nap. It takes more than 130 decibels to keep King Spitty out of slumberland.

Three!

So, Three what? you may rightfully inquire. 
Three Spittys? Three pictures? Three French hens?
No, in fact, three posts in the first NINE days 
of August.
And heck, if I can get three more by the end of the
month, we might actually break 100.
Come to think of it, that's impressive . . . in golf,
maybe.

Remember Me?

Well, isn't this a fine kettle of fish! Apparently, she thinks she can just do whatever she wants and I will be here waiting patiently, claws sheathed, meower shut, waiting just like some little good boy until she gets around to helping me.

Now this is a fine little video, but she incompetently filmed me in portrait not landscape, so if you want to get a good look at me and my glorious floof, you'll need to biggify. Can't you tell how I've suffered?