I Think. . .

. . . this comic strip has the wrong name.

So. . .

I was reading this blog, and of course, my first thought was, what if you’re a human carer?  Is that like writing poetry too? 
What if everything’s like writing poetry?  What if writing poetry is like everything?  What if eating and washing and biting your mouse, and being petted, and biting someone, what if that’s all [...]

The Two Worst Words In The Whole World

Diet kibble.

Here’s The Problem With Winter

They stay inside.  And then, they clean.  All the hideyholes disappear, except for under the bed — and if they clean long enough, they start putting things under there, too.
I’m little, but I’m not that little.

A Very Good Day

A nice lady in California had a litter of younglings, and Stevo’s blog, Asian Ramblings, is a finalist in the Bloggies!
I don’t know what we can do to celebrate the lady’s litter (she’s welcome to use the names I picked out the other week!) but let’s all go vote for Stevo.
update — and it’s Ina’s [...]

oooh….

I like chicken soup. . .

I Am Ready For Winter To Be Over

I haven’t tracked a bug in SO long.  And the nip didn’t freeze, but it’s hidey.  I sat in the sun today till I was toasty, on the porch, but when I rolled over the pavement was cold, cold. 

A Story About When I Was A Youngling (for 2MiniPanthers)

I had ideas, when I was young, about what kind of human I wanted.  I knew I would have to be very special to get a good one.  All my littermates helped me, teaching me good things to know about sitting nicely, and washing properly, and when to roll and wave my feet in the [...]

Curiously, It Is Friday

It has been a long week.  Thanks to Curious for making a cozy Friday. 
 
1) Who is the person you know with the best sixth sense?
Me.  I hear things humans don’t even say.
2) If you could be the sole confessor to anyone on earth and you could never betray their trust, whose confessions would you want [...]

Some Days Are Pacing Days

Days of the old ways, or of the boxed ones, the big ones, days to walk back and forth waiting for the thing you wish would happen, or hope might happen, or worry might happen — days when you must walk, must be ready, must be waiting. . . and in the end, the end [...]