Sunday Selfie: Synchronized Sleeping

Here we are again after a long week of the Human's failing to heed our desperate pleas to post, as we are hoping not to repeat that four-month absence from our still-infant blog (the title of which I find unacceptably exclusionary. ~Buddy, the Trustworthy Tabby). 

At least she has acceded to our more-than-reasonable request this evening. Now we must lobby hard to get her to help us visit our new friends, who must wonder about our enforced silence. It just isn't right, Kitties. 

Sunday Selfie: I See You

 

Where's.My.Breakfast?

It's 7:28 a.m. and she's on the computer. Does she not understand that I have not eaten a morsel since maybe 10:30 p.m., like four days ago. 

A few weeks back, the Stabby Place Person said I was getting to be the "F"-word (no, not that one, Sillies--the three-letter one). Does that mean I am no longer going to get my foods, I wonder?

I confess I am more than a little worried, my furiends.

He Licked My Precious FursAnd I Will Never Be the Same

We were enjoying a companionable post-breakfast lie-about 

when I fell asleep on the bed. In the depths of my slumbers, I heard an unmistakable slurping. 

I thought, "Oh good! Stinky Boy is taking a baff!"

Oh Kitties, I have never been so completely wrong in my life!

And here is the fresh evidence. I lodged a complaint with the local magistrate (okay, just the Human) who took an official photograph of the still-damp incriminating evidence. Believe me, Kitties, that wet spot did not come from this sugar-and-spice girlcat. Surely it will dry, right?