Fair Weather Vegan

A Simple Bow And Gift Message Are Appropriate For Kittehs

Guest Poster: Abby Louie

Drat and furthermore blast, excuse my French.  I had just gotten used to the third uncouth biped they've brought into this house, after a placid few months being the feted visiting dignitary.  That one at least is fairly sedentary, even if she does treat my every move as fodder for an amusing anecdote.  The newest arrival, however, is seriously lacking in decorum.  She lulled me into a false sense of complacency by being quite polite at first and waiting for me to approach, but since then has insisted on treating me as a house pet, attempting to get me to sit on her lap and even picking me up.  The degredation!  She finally made a step too far by bringing her face into my ambit, and I was forced to be quite sharp with her.  That, of course, caused the skinny one to threaten me.  The skinny one is always threatening me with being evicted or some bodily violence, when she's not stroking me or allowing me to sleep on her bathrobe.  A mystery, that one.  I have a small valise packed in case one day she makes good on her contradictory behavior.  I rather like the larger one, despite his irritating habit of attempting to engage me in frolicsome behavior.  I will not even address the fact that when speaking about me in the third person they call me a name which begins with 'd' and symbolizes all that I abhor.  The house itself, while overly warm, is full of nooks and crannies and high places excellently placed for leaping.  The water is plentiful and the food is left out all day so one may partake when one wishes.  The people, if ill-mannered, are kind.  I have left a scratch in the customary place on the back fence in case any further wanderers are seeking shelter. 

Friday Cat Blogging! For Reals!

I am so excited to be entering into this longstanding blogsphere tradition, even if only by extension.  A few weeks ago a cat wandered onto my parents' back porch and seemed content to stay there.  They made a bed for her in the barn, but soon she had the run of the house.  Having never owned a cat before, they're amazed at her independence and her ability to sleep on almost any surface, including on top of books on the shelves or in the linen closet.  They have named her Abby, and I received these photos in an email from my father entitled "Abby Louie, Cat."  She is the spitting image of my grandparents' former "pet," Ally, who is clearly being reborn in order to work off the karma of being the spawn of Satan.