You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to firstname.lastname@example.org .
I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.
If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.
Only a few more hours to enter to win a copy of this adorable book, here! You can enter ’til 3 pm (US Central time). I’ve got two copies to give away, so your chances are good! Again, go here to enter.
Gracie is a good watchdog. She keeps an eye on everything. While George is off snoozing under the coop, Gracie makes sure that all is as it should be in the back forty.
(When she’s not snoozing under the coop with George, that is.)
Patty and Charlie are NOT sure what’s going on in that foster room, but they know they don’t care for the fact that they can’t get in there.
In case you missed it yesterday, I went back to post that the new guys, despite Clay, Tig and Opie’s lack of tail, seem to be A-OK. Many of us remember sweet Jerry Lee Pickett over at Itty Bitty Kitty Committee. Sometimes cats with little or no tail suffer have nerve issues in their back ends. These guys are getting around just fine and they’re all using the litter box with no problems.
I also went back and added that the new guys are named after characters from the TV series Sons of Anarchy, and they’ll collectively be known as the Sons.
(Perhaps someday I’ll get the hang of that whole proofreading thing. Probably won’t be today, though.)
The Sons are starting to come around. At least now when we walk into the room, they don’t run and hide. They still cringe away from us when we reach for them, but that’ll go away in time, I suspect.
The boldest of the four is Clay. He acts like he doesn’t want us to touch him, but once we start petting him, he’s like “Okay, ya got me!” and flops over onto his side. Clay’s the one with the little nub of a tail, and he actually wags it when he gets excited and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be the death of me because SO CUTE.
Oh, and someone asked if their lack of tails affect their balance. The answer, as far as I can tell, is not at all. It would be one thing if they were born with tails and then had to have them removed for one reason or another – in such a case, they’d have to adjust to the sudden lack of the tail that they’d always used to balance themselves – but these guys were born this way, so it’s all they’ve known. And it doesn’t slow them down in the slightest!
2010: No entry.
2009: That would be the alternate, much less fun and much more pungent definition of a Dutch Oven!
2008: You know how a body at rest wants to stay at rest?
2007: Mister Boogers regarded me
2006: How these cats aren’t the size of Tubby, I will never know.
2005: No entry.
2004: And if I ever get the urge to go shopping at the mall on a Saturday two weeks before Christmas, I’ll lay down until it goes away.
2003: Thank god I’m not famous. I could handle being followed around by the papparazzi, but live interviews on the TV and radio? Fuck THAT.
2002: My favorite Christmas entry, ever. Chock-full of the Bitchypoo Christmas Spirit.
2001: Of course my world revolves around me and the people I care about. And yours revolves around you. Except when it revolves around me.
2000: I think they should hire me to play his girlfriend – the stripper with a heart of gold – because I just love that man right to pieces
1999: No entry.