Milk that sack of gravy, squeeze, squeeze.

No sun. Heaters off. Where to find heat? His chest. Of course. Why didn’t I think of it sooner?

I’m not referrring to perfection as myself, but thanks for letting the thought cross your mind.

No, no, in this case. I’m thinking ambient fragrance. In particular the popped can goodness.

The only disadvantage of tuna is the tuna-scented flatulance. It puts me off the fish itself now and then.

Did you see the Cat nurses puppy story?

How can I cover so little floor area and still get my tail stepped on? I know they have big feet and poor eyes and weak coordination, especially after dar, but this is ridiculous.

All of us need a nap.
I don’t know about the humans, but I took one.

I’m bored. Think I’ll go lick an ankle of a sleeper.

Have you noticed how profoundly hard to transcend time and circumstance when someone is breathing sour citrus breath on your face?

I can’t nap a minute around here without something odd happening.

What ever could all this be?

The little things work well for chasing under the stove and fridge, I can tell you that much.

Oh Mror preserve us! If only I could explain my wriggling scramble.

See, human, if you carry me on your shoulder you are wider and need to step left to accommodate our combined width in going through a door, otherwise my head risks bonkdom. Thus the wriggle. See?

Of course you don’t see, this being an illicit blog that the humans aren’t privy too but heh, sometimes you just got to shake something out of your fur.