I love to watch the squirrels out the side window, especially when they’re going after this particular bird feeder.
Flexible.
Excellent balance.
Do you see the squirrel tongue action going on here? Let’s see a closeup.
SQUIRREL TONGUE.
“Oh, sweet bird seed, you make my heart sing. You warm the cockles of my heart and delight my tongue, I LOVE YOU SO.”
Sweet Opie in the sunshine.
“Can I come in and play?”
“I’m sorry, there’s no room for you in Cat Cottage. Check back tomorrow.”
“But you’re the only one in there, and there are like three other floors!”
“Right. No room. See ya!”
Tig would like you to know that manly mancats don’t mind playing with pink toys.
Three little tuxies, all in a row.
Jax and the crazy eyes.
Silly boy.
“What?”
Chuckles loves himself some Elwood.
LOVES.
Who can blame him?
It must feel like curling up with a huge water bottle!
Newtles is the king of chillaxin’.
It’s a rough life, is what it is.
“After all that yawning, I need another nap.”
Previously
2010: “Really? Cat entries? From ROBYN? We are STUNNED and SHOCKED and AMAZED!”
2009: I was a baking motherfucker this weekend.
2008: No entry.
2007: Kismet! Match made in heaven! Fate!
2006: I said to Fred, “I know you think we have too many cats, but -”
2005: I imagine that when all three of our phones are in the same vicinity, we’ll get them confused and hijinx will ensue.
2004: Reader questions, answered.
2003: “Um, no,” I told Fred when he asked. “And not only no, but HELL no, and I’ll be out of the house whenever they come to interview you and tape you exercising and all that goofy-ass shit.”
2002: No entry.
2001: I guess he defines “tension” as “getting drunk and pawing every female in sight.”
2000: I practically woke up screaming, I tell you.
1999: Suddenly, it occurs to me that nestled next to my underwear is not the best place to put a bag of very potent catnip.