Sunday Selfie: This Is My Life Now

Yes, Kitties, it has come to this. I must needs nap away my days, starving, unloved and unplayed-with* as the Human spends all her waking hours and what little energy she possesses at her advanced age at her loathesome (to me) j-o-b. Oh, she talks a good game ("It'll be summer soon, Spitty, and we'll have a good time then, Spitty"), but I have excellent reason to be skeptical. Promises are cheap and follow-through far from guaranteed. At least she *was* helping me post, till last Tuesday, that is. Then even my single line to the outside world was unceremoniously severed. Oh, the Humanity! It's an outrage is what it is.

* Okay, maybe not starving.

In the Grand Tradition of

James & the Giant Peach, we present 
Spitty and His Late-Night Snack

Huddling Up

Some days, I find it's best to just burrow into my comfy cave and tune out the tumult and the shouting of the Human world and its "news bulletins."

If they actually mean something, they'll still be there tomorrow, and if they don't, best not to hear them and fret unnecessarily. And honestly, is necessary fretting even a thing? I think not.

Sunday Selfie: Sleepytimes Spitty

Lullaby and good night 
Now the daytime is over

You wouldn't think I'd like the Human to sing to me, but I do.

And . . .
Happy Mother's Day to Moms of all kinds, including the Human's beloved Mom and Grandma across the Bridge.

I Feel G-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d

                        Please, can it be playtimes now? You're late.

Purry Purry Blurry

 

It's a happy soothing sound that the Humans 

cannot make because they are not worthy.

All Right, Mr. DeMille, I'm Ready for My Close-Up

If the l-a-z-y Human would paint my hideous-but-beloved radiator, 

you too could gaze upon the Object of my Worship.