October 21st, 2006

(no subject)

I have discovered that Roswell is not a kitten. She is a pig.

This lovely saturday I got up at 5:00 in the morning, as is my routine (being old and all, i like to listen to Larwence Welk before the sun), and I figured Hey, I'll have breakfast with Momcat2, she could probably use the company! so I made up a plate of scrambled tofu and onions while Roswell tried to climb up my microfleece lounging pants because if it's in the kitchen, you know, it must be cat fud. Anyhow, I fed Roswell and n00ton, Roswell chowed down and left me alone enough to finish. I also made sundried tomato pesto toast points -- took breakfast out into the front room where momcat2 greeted me with a hiss and a dash under the sofa. Momcat2's bowl was empty bone dry. I filled it and sat on the sofa to watch the sun rise. Well, in comes Roswell, up onto my plate MUST HAVE TOFU. GIVE ME TOFU. MUST EAT TOFU. IS THAT SUNDRIED TOMATO PESTO? GIMMIE THAT, MUST EAT THAT. WHY ARE YOU WITHHOLDING CAT FUD? GIVE ME THE CAT FUD YOU ARE EATING. MUST HAVE TOFU. GIVE ME TOFU. WHY ARE YOU MOVING THE PLATE? GIVE ME SUNDRIED TOFU. YOU MOVED THE -- HEY, GIVE ME THE CAT FUD. WHY ARE YOU HOARDING THE CAT FUD? I kept pushing her back, dropping her on the floor, she jumps up again, finally after I stuff her face full of tofu she goes away and i hear some crunching from momcat2's bowl. I read fifteen or twenty pages of Daisy Fried's lovely new poetry collection My Brother is Getting Arrested Again, Tatiana came out into the front room, sat in a corner and started purring so loudly I could hear her from all the way on the other side, she's just happy to see the crepuscular glow of the sun, I finished my breakfast and brought the dishes out to the kitchen. I went back to the front room to see Momcat2 sitting forlornely in front of a bone dry, completely empty bowl. Roswell ate all of her mothers food.

(no subject)

guess who's been sneaking out of the front room to explore the living room? momcat2. she let me get about four feet away from her to take this. which is pretty close for her. sometimes she lets me walk past the sofa without shooting off of it and hiding under furniture. sometimes. today roswell kissed her on the nose.



and she'd getting, er, a little, ah ... hefty.


momcat1 is back to sleeping on my bed. she'll let me lay down next to her, about three feet away and sit there and read and she'll close her eyes and doze off. it's not like having cats, it's like having luggage!

i'm off to get guitar strings for a Secret Project.

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