In the Heat of the Day

Okay, okay, I guess "mid-70's" might not qualify as heat in most parts of the Golden State, but honestly, at Chez Spittola a furball was upchucked and lying spreadeagled was the order of the day. On the plus side, I have handsome legs, don't you think? Oh, and a new and shapely white whisker has grown in to replace the lost one.

Little Hiatus

Everything is fine (well, *she* thinks so), but I am being forced against my furry will to take a little hiatus for a week or so while the Human disports herself at various end-of-year events. Phfffft.

I mean, you know what that means, right? No fun times for the kitty. No toy time, no snuggly times, no companionable napping times. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

She says we'll be back next weekend. Is there a black market in thumbs, do you think? 

Spittola of Sunnybrat Farm

Oh, I look harmless enough, all drowsy here in this sunpuddle, counting the days. But like Max the Psychokitty, one of my main inspirations for proper ManCatly behavior, 

I loves me the Bitey.

(Not Exactly a) Sunday Selfie

So here I am, but only to say the Human wants to have her OWN post today, taking over mine like it was nuffing! Like it's just the way the world works or something. She did not even really seek out my permission or anything. I'm offended, Kitties, but what can a ManCat do when a Human decides to overstep her bounds?

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On Friday, my fabulous AP English Lit girls threw their Old Bat teacher a retirement bash for the ages. There were flowers and balloons and Spitty mugs galore, not to mention a breakfast buffet, with many chip-and-cookie courses, OJ in champagne flutes, and fantastic homemade banana bread. It was almost enough (note: almost) to make me reconsider my decision, but . . . no.

Here are the charming hostesses themselves (wearing gear from the colleges they've committed to):

For 44 years, the students were always the best part of every workday.

The ManCatCave

Sometimes a boy just needs a little me-time, you know?

Ungroomed and Déshabillé

I debated long and hard over whether to allow the Human to publish these fetching but imperfect photos. My tailio is not shown off to its full washed and brushed glory, and there's kind of a lot of distracting messy stuff on the bed.










On the other hand, both she and I have come to enjoy my superb stretching form. So really, it was not much of a contest. Any picture of me awake and looking charming deserves to see the light of day, amirite?

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Oh, and just so's youse don't lose track:

Smile: You're on Candid Camera!

Okay, so this photo is not going to qualify for Cat Fancy magazine (or any magazine, anywhere, ever), but we are willing to expose our (excuse me, Human? "Our"?) very poor housekeeping habits, especially at this time of year when the Human barely does the dishes or the laundry.

Aaaaaaaaaanyway, the point is, despite its many failings in the area of fine (or even--let's be honest--competent) photography, it does portray my total commitment to the warms that pour forth like melting honey from the Radiator Goddess.

Behold! I am the Warms. Recline before me and be Toasty.

Sunday Selfies: Spitty and the Hoppers

Well, after a week-long clash of wills, an unconscionably long delay, amirite?, the Human caved at last and this very morning I was given my first Kanga-treat. At first I sniffed, and sniffed again, and then I consumed,

and consumed, and consumed. I had about 8, Kitties, and I would happily have eaten more.

But the stoopy Human was afraid I might start leaping tall buildings in a single bound.

Thanks again and again, Miss Megan. 

The little hoppers make for tasty nomming!

Plunder from Down Under

OMC, Kitties, OMC! Just look what came in the mail for me today!

Well, it's **addressed** to me, anyway. It has my freaking NAME on it! 

I mean, you can READ it for yourself right there, can you not?

*****

N.B. The fine print

(There's kangaroos in there, Kitties.

But [ut-oh] I don't think they're jumpin' around anymore.)

*****

You might be asking yourselves, "Spitty, my good mancat! What could be more wonderful?"

And you'd be half-right. It *is* wonderful.

But the Human says I can't has them till the weekend 'cause she wants to get 

some good pictures in good daylight and yadayadayadablahblahblah 

who-knows-what-nonsense-is-coming-out-of-her-piehole-anyway?

Till then, she says, we have the "Joy of Anticipation."

Uh-huh.