On the Internets, anything can happen. And when it does, anyone can help. Cats can put books with birds on the cover on their blogs,
even.
I’m under the bed with my best toy,
and the chunk of roast beef that I stole;
I’ve licked my paws clean of Nutella,
and I’ve had the most wonderful roll.
I shall curl myself up in a bundle
with a purr like a jungle drum,
and I shan’t come out from under the bed
till the first of the year has [...]
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There IS a place where cats are allowed in Christmas trees!
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Under beds is good for this. Bushes are also good. Bushes in other countries are especially good.
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Sweaters. They’re almost like fur, some of them. I’m so happy for you! Don’t lick them, though.
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So I know none of these presents are mine.
Which means my presents are hidden.
Which means I have work to do.
I should probably think of a better place to hide their presents than their shoes, shouldn’t I. But it’s so Santa.
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–running and jumping and slipping down the hill, a paw-tip away, a tooth away, a dream away.
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– and you look over your shoulder, perhaps while washing it, and see the day attached to you like your tail. Not something you’ve thought about, or particularly cared for, other than to keep it out of the way of doors and feet, but something that’s yours; something, despite not having looked at it much, [...]
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While the TV was on yesterday, I saw a male wearing something that said, “Bacon Is A Vegetable.”
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Outside is different in winter. We don’t have snow here, much, and the trees have only just now remembered to drop their leaves — but it is winter, all the same.
Winter is sharp and tingly; dry, mostly. Things rustle when you brush against them. The leaves fall from the trees and stick in the dry [...]
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Or maybe not.
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