look but DON'T TOUCH!!

My Mama makes lotsa pretty fings frum beads an' string in my room where I let her keep her stuff, an' she lets me snoopervise from my faverite perch on her lap! But when I try to help, she gets all flusterpated an' sometimes asks if I want flyin' lessons. I don't unnerstand what flyin' hasta do wif beads. An' I must admit, it is furry, furry difficult to keep my paws offa those sparkly, rolly little things. Evenshully, she gets pretty nervus an' puts me down onna ground an' gets my faverite fevver-an-jingle-bell-onna-string. we play race an' catch until I am good an' tired, so I go haf a drinka water an' take a nap. It's a win-win fur me!

underground kitty

when mommer's foot blankie fell offa the footrest onna reclinin' chair last nite, dammit burrowed unner it like he was a mole. mommer hadda pull back the edge just to get this picture of him. then she covered him back up, an' he nefur moved the whole time! he stayed there for almost a halfa hour. then when she gotted up to go to the human litterbox, he reached out an' snagged her foot. she stumbled an' danced fur a minnit, an' he had enuf time to beat her to the little room, where he tripped her again. she sed he was lucky she din't hafta go real bad. we fink she was the lucky one! we also fink he wasn't asleep unner there; he was jus' bidin' his time!

sleepin' wif the emeny

aha! now we knows why iggy missed our team syncronized nappin' practice yestiddy. he's goned ofur to the emeny. we shoulda knowed; he's had a crush on the dbd all his life, an' she only hafs eyes for nitro, so he takes enny chance he gits where she'll let him cuddle up. guess he'll be back wif us when she wakes up an' notices him there. poor guy.

smells like team spirit ...

we herd mommer sayin' that she was gonna change the flower reeth onna front door to one wif red leafs, onna counta monday was the beginnin' of ottum. that means it's gonna get colder soon, an' we figgered we better practice our team's syncronized nappin' so's to find the best, most warmest positions. we dunno where igmu was in this configgerashun, but he needs to show up fer th' next practice: ed's ol' bald asterisk needs a blankie.

abandon th' cat o' nine tails??????

since our gramma evelyn's norsqueegian, an' nitro's furs are red like hers (useta be), nitro finks he's  norsqueegian, too, an' come up wif the idear that we should leaf th' cat o' nine tails in drydock next year on MLaP Day an' sail a vikin' longship. we debated an' debated an' iggy sed he'd do some research befur we made a decishun.

furst, he came in an' tole us that vikin's was really mostly peaceful traders, not allus th' crazy berserkers that mooveys want us to belief. the only thing bein' if you din't wanna trade wif 'em, then they turned inta th' berserkers an' took what they wanted inna furst place! so that sorta sounded like kitties to us, an' we begun to warm to the idear.

then he went an' studied some more, an' found out that if the wind din't blow hard enuf, we'd hafta ROW th' dang thing. an' finely, he sed there wasn't no dingy or rowboats--if we wanted ta get to shore, we'd hafta W-A-D-E!!  (fizzikal labor!!! no naps!!! wet paws an' tail feathers!!!) 

so we promply whupped the tar outta nitro fur even THINKIN' we'd do that, an' went back to our naps. wet paws, indeed. *hmpf*