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The earth says hello!
Good morning, Staaaaaaarshine~
How sad is it that I actually consider getting up at eleven to be an accomplishment? Mmm, SLEEP. *gnaws on pillow*
* No, we don't have a half-cat hopping around somewhere- we used to have a cat named Sloane, who was enormous and lovable and dim-witted, but when Jack and Spaghetti came to live with us Sloane got pretty upset and moved in with the next-door-neighbours, where he is appreciated. He still comes over now and then to eat and glare at us from under the kitchen table.
My little sister is watching that awful Girlicious show and all I can think is that Gerard Way needs to teach these girls about feminism. Also, how to dance.
How sad is it that I actually consider getting up at eleven to be an accomplishment? Mmm, SLEEP. *gnaws on pillow*
Snippet
So called because when we first pulled him out from under a bush and took him home he was small enough to fit in the palm of our hands. (We had to feed him from an eyedropper for a while.) He is now large and likes to take up entire couch cushions, especially when you're about to sit down and watch a movie. Snippet is the oldest of our cats and likes to baby the other three-and-a-half,* to the point where if he's eating and one of them wanders up to his bowl he'll back off and wash their ears while they eat his food. It's endearing, and also slightly worrying because if he was a human mommy he'd probably be working three jobs and getting two hours of sleep a day.
Of course, he's a cat, so he gets two hours of awake time a day. Still.
Dyson
Dyson showed up at our house one day in the middle of a storm and just... didn't leave. He was named by my grandmother after a type of vacuum cleaner because for the first week or so he ate everything. (Couldn't keep it down, but still ate it.) Dyson has a bad back and very rarely makes noise, kind of like a little old dude. Because he knows that my little brother is allergic to cats he likes to sleep on his bed, preferably directly on his pillow or, better yet, his face. As you can see from this picture, he hates me.
Jack
There is a house just past our neighbourhood that periodically has a "Free Kittens" sign on the lawn. We went there one day and came home with a wee Jack (named after Jack White, Jack Black, and Jack Sparrow). Jack was a boy until about six months in, when we discovered she didn't exactly qualify. Jack is everyone's favourite even if they pretend not to have a favourite, because she is tiiiiiiiiiiiny and likes to be cuddled and makes a "mrrrlt" noise before she jumps into your lap. Also, she sleeps in a bassinet.
Spaghetti
When we got Jack-Jack,tentertaining was with us and wanted to get a kitten too. Unfortunately her mother was Not Having It, so after much ado about... fleas, mostly, we ended up with a Spaghetti! He deceived us all by being mellow and chilled-out for the first half hour we knew him, and then made up for it by bullying Sloane out of the house, forcing Jack to surrender all her food (thereby making her the tiny wee thing she is now), and dropping on Dyson from above like a hairy, enthusiastic spider. He's kind of dumb and kind of mean and smells bad about 60% of the time. And yet we love him. The human heart is a mysterious thing.
* No, we don't have a half-cat hopping around somewhere- we used to have a cat named Sloane, who was enormous and lovable and dim-witted, but when Jack and Spaghetti came to live with us Sloane got pretty upset and moved in with the next-door-neighbours, where he is appreciated. He still comes over now and then to eat and glare at us from under the kitchen table.
My little sister is watching that awful Girlicious show and all I can think is that Gerard Way needs to teach these girls about feminism. Also, how to dance.
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(I, too, need this icon.)
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