Examining My Conscience

The Human said my penance was to examine my conscience 

and then say six Hail Marys and promise not to bite the guests 

anymore. We'll see.

So yesterday, an animal-loving friend of the Human's came over for the first time. She had heard about me for many years, but had never actually met me (and frankly, I wasn't sure I was going to feel like showing myself until I had seen and heard and smelled her and decided *I* wanted to meet *her*).

Surprisingly, she looked and sounded and smelled okay, so I made an appearance. I even walked up and gave her some good sniffs. She was enchanted with me (as who would not be?) and I with her (well, as enchanted as I get with Other Humans). 

My Human handed her my favorite brush, and I was ecstatic! Until I wasn't and, yes, I put the bitey on her. Evidently, the Human considered that very extremely naughty host behavior.  I drew blood too, though to be fair the visitor was, like the Human, rather an Old Lady and is it my fault they have paper-thin old-lady skin?

Our gracious visitor took it in stride and apologized to me for doing the brushies wrong. I magnanimously forgave her as the Human fetched the Bactine and a Band-Aid.

What a bunch of crybabies Humans are! 

Calm, Cool, Cozy & Cute

The *Human* thought this picture made me look all snuggly and adorable in our now-very-cool weather. *I* think it also makes me look rather ill-proportioned (which I assure you is far from the truth--I am purrfectly proportioned as you all know). In any event, Yours Truly is One Happy Boy today!

Maybe the Corner Is Cooler?

Maybe.

But I really don't think so.

They *said* it would be cooler today.

But really? Well, they're bald-faced liars is what they are.

97°

11:00 a.m.

6:15 p.m.

Sunday Selfie: Sunshine on My Shoulders

  

makes me ha-a-a-a-a-appy

So Apparently I Am Just Not Good Enough

to be the main attraction on my own blog anymore.

Apparently these long-necked burds are a better draw.

Hrumph.

Nah, I Don't Gots No Fleas

But the Human just can't stop being an English teacher even though she retired almost a year ago, and she thought Father of Fleas was nice and alliterative. 

I say, why couldn't it have been Father of Frogs, or Ferrets, or Foxes. Father of Falcons has a nice ring to it.

But no. Fleas came to mind and she was (surprise!) too lazy to think of something more refined and regal.

Honestly. What I have to put up with.