Oh, there better be something good when they fill that bowl.  Something really, really good. . .

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I think one of the big differences between us is that we understand our play is important.  I know you sit in your chairs, and watch clowders of big ones chasing a mouse, and take it very seriously — but I’m talking about our own play.  I watched Daniel killing an empty water bottle today, [...]

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. . . the world was really an enormous green tortie cat, sleeping all curled up round and warm?  And we were just, oh, I don’t know.  Beetles, maybe.  Leaves skritching past that made her ears twitch.  Dreams of salmon. 

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Mine are a smart people.

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But sometimes they just need a little nip to get them going.  Sometimes it seems like their ears don’t work.

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Gotta love ‘em.

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There’s some kind of a giant flat computer dog named Akismet.  It has convinced people to feed it spam instead of dog food.
That’s a smart dog.

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It doesn’t mean I don’t want you to go.  It means I want to go with.

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Maybe you know.  Would I be able to talk to cats in other countries?  Or just the humans?

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You know the ones — where you go poke your nose in all the corners, and dig under the bed, and wander all around marking everything just in case it’s what you want, because you want something, and you’re not sure what it is?

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