Friday: 3 March 2006
Every tree has to be climbed, every tree has to be sampled. It takes a long time. Some of our cats flee at the sight of a camera. Genie-weenie is the quintessential ham. Feles longa, vita brevis!
Speaking of the brevis of vita, the Kat Sematary, current occupation somewhere around twelve, is the perfect place for Genie-weenie to meditate on matters of mice and mortality.
Aunt Donna sent Genie-weenie a care package. He hasn’t read the little books on cat-etiquette yet, but he and Squit are checking out the stuffed companion. They’re not quite sure what to do about it.
pablo - email - url
My guess is that the photo of the Kat Sematary is looking mostly east.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 08:22:23
Wayne - email - url
I always have to examine Pablo’s comments, using the finest of flea combs, for hidden jokes. With some trepidation here, I answer literally: south-southeast.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 08:30:21
Rexroths Daughter - email - url
Gene is the coolest. There’s no doubt about it. I love a cat that follows you out for walks in the woods, and that tree-climbing photo is great.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 10:21:47
Glenn
Does not take a flea comb: meditation should always be done facing east.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 10:58:47
Wayne - email - url
Damn. I can’t believe Glenn got it and I didn’t. That’s a first. Well, I knew Pablo was setting another trap for me.
As it turns out *Gene* was facing east.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 11:05:26
pablo - email - url
WHAT?
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 11:30:02
Wayne - email - url
"WHAT?", Pablo exclaimed innocently, counting the number of times he’s fooled Wayne.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 11:31:57
Wayne - email - url
RD - Gene is like no other cat, a total rapscallion who loves everyone and can’t imagine why all the other cats detest him.
I was inconsolable the week he disappeared, last year. And my joy knew no bounds when he unexpectedly turned up.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 11:36:31
Leslie - email - url
We have a cemetery at Palazzo Rospo, too. Sad, considering the fact we’ve only been here 7 months or so. Our Scottish Fold cat, Angus (husband wanted to name him Haggis, I balked, we settled on Angus) is buried up on the highest ridge, above the “thinking spot.” I planted tulips on his grave this past fall.
I think cemeteries are peaceful.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 16:22:27
FloridaCracker - email - url
They seem to think the stuffed toy is suspicious. Cautious curiosity.
Friday: 3 March 2006 @ 16:56:58
Pablo - email - url
Wish I were there.
Saturday: 4 March 2006 @ 04:27:49
