I have no intentions of leaving the house, and we’re not getting any trick or treaters this year. So I just dressed Mozzie up instead, as a Beanie Baby.
About 6 weeks ago, my cousin ended up with a tiny kitten. She calls her Cleo.
Cleo’s the only one of her litter to survive, and as a result, she had to be bottle fed, and taken care of pretty much 24/7.
She’s also super cute.
Doesn’t she look like a tiny kung fu master in this one? She’s about 5 weeks here.
It’s hot here. Portland gets warm summers, usually 85 or higher. I know compared to places like Phoenix, California, and Australia, our summers are nothing. But to us, they’re plenty hot and we melt.
It’s early June, but summer has hit. It was hot today. The cat is miserable. Mozzie has layers upon layers of light weight fluff that I’m sure traps heat. He tends to turn into a furry puddle in any cold location in the summer.
I’m helping Pet with dinner, and my grandmother starts stage whispering from down the hall. “Steph! Come quick! You have to see this!”
I came across this gem on the Huffington Post today. It’s a short video, but if you want to skip the unimportant parts, skip ahead to the 0:30 mark.
There’s apparently some arguments (on the Internet, who would have imagined?!) that the crow is actually saying “Thank you.” Given that this video was taken at a DMV, I think it’s possible for that to be the alternative. However, since it was taken at a DMV, I’m far more likely to think it learned “Fuck you.” from the disgruntled people leaving the DMV.
What do you think? Thank you or Fuck you?
I spent most of today in bed with a migraine, but I finally felt decent this evening. I wanted to pre fire a bowl, so I headed into the shop, and Mozzie decided to come hang out with me. Nonny recently re-organized the shop, and so there’s lots of new stuff to explore. I think Mozzie smelled a mouse, because he was sure interested in that shelf.
Mozzie loves soft things. The softer, the better. He kneads on stuff, and then drools buckets. He will drool big enough puddles that if you sit in them, they will soak through your jeans, to your skin.
So living with us, he’s in soft thing heaven. Pet and I are fond of soft things too, and almost all of our blankets are soft, fuzzy ones. Mozzie has no shortage of blankets to drool on.
I’ve been sick for about a week, and so nothing appeals to write about. Instead I’m going to cheat, and post a photo of Mozzie nomming the hell out of some cat grass.
If you’ve read much of my blog, then you will know I’m crazy about my cat, Mozzie. We’ve had him not quite a year and a half, and he adds so much to the family. Maybe it’s because he’s indoors, and the dogs aren’t, but he’s a character.
Right now, as I type this, he’s sleeping on the back of my office chair, a front leg dangling over each side, eyes closed. It’s so cute how he’ll do that.
We had always guessed Mozzie had been an outdoor cat with his previous family. Last summer, his first summer with us, he managed to escape a couple times by pushing out the screens and squeezing through. My grandmother caught him once, Pet caught him another time. And, he always sat at the doors, looking longingly outside.
I’m stuck up in the greater Seattle area tonight, trapped in Rosie until I deliver at o ‘dark thirty. There are some benefits though, such as a couple good places to eat, and for a change, 4G internet on my phone. So I’m not without the Internet to entertain me tonight.
But, by far the best thing to come out of my unexpected exile? This happy girl.