Not just cat-napping

I scooted upstairs to grab a book and found the cat still in bed.  The sunlight was streaming through the windows and had been for hours, and yet he had not stirred from his comfortable spot at the foot of our bed, despite our warm feet having been missing since morning.  I gingerly stepped over to him to see if he was awake enough for a pat on the head.  He opened his eyes not even halfway and dared me to wake him.

I left him as I found him.

Cat (not) whisperer

While travelling the world, Malcolm and I entrusted our cat, Moo-Moo to the care of my brother.  Brodder loves our cat and has managed to keep other animals alive in his care, so we took the plunge.

me:  I would like photographic evidence that our cat is still alive, please. That, and I might miss him a bit.

Brodder:

Moo eating my phone charger.

And eating the Christmas lights.

me: Don't you have any pictures of him being well behaved? Or have you spoiled our cat for us?

Brodder: Spoiled to the bone. Good luck ever owning nice things.

Not my birthday, and not my thirtieth

It's already been said and done, but I wanted to let you know that I had a good one.  No party or large celebration today--that was Sunday...or is coming up on the 22nd, depending on who you ask--and no pile o' presents to remind me I'm getting old.  It was just right.

I just wanted to say so.  I also wanted to post a couple of cool new pictures taken with my cool new camera from Malcolm...but I seem to have left it out of reach of my nice toasty spot in bed...it will have to wait until tomorrow.  Instead, I shall share an adorable moment that I already have about a million different versions of...but it just never seems to grow old...

  "If I were Brodder, I'd be looking forward to cat-sitting Moo too."

No, not my tongue

No, he didn't get my tongue. Trust me, I had my fair share of words for the cat yesterday morning. He didn't follow in line with the adage--he went ahead and the cat got my diamond ring instead.

Dang cat.

Trying not to wake my Crazy, I searched through my jewelery tray of MUCH cheaper pieces that he could have DESTROYED for all I cared, but no diamond ring. A search of the surrounding area, even with the light on, revealed nothing either. The only things that coerced me to leave were the fact that it was my second first-day of work and Crazy told me he'd take a look for it for me when he got up.

*sigh*

I felt naked on one hand all day (ring-wearers, I know you know what I mean). It wasn't until I'd told EVERYONE what the cat had done and after I'd visited my cat-enthusiast doctor that I started to feel a little better.

While going through the motions of my check-up, I told her about what Moo had done and asked her for her professional opinion on my chances of finding it again.

    "Oh, well he certainly hasn't eaten it. He's just a cat and cats like loud, shiny things to bat around on the floor for the sparkle and the sound it makes. I'm sure you're going to find it behind one piece of furniture or another."

Lucky for the cat, I did.

I am now in the market for a cat-proof jewelery box. Perhaps from Mexico. 9 more days...