Sorry. Got Nothing.

HAD TWO POSTS but they both sucked, so I deleted ’em. Will try again tomorrow.

OK. Kitten stuff.

Chester (I keep hearing the name Chester the Molester. Where is that from? M*A*S*H? Do I hear Donald Sutherland saying it?) has this really cute trick of, when you walk into a room, or through the front door, he runs up, pounces on your foot, and wraps his arms around your leg. Variation A is then he bounces away and dances around you like Ali — “Float like a butterfly.”

Jane has the smallest itty-bitty mew I think I’ve ever heard from a kitten. Almost like she’s miming mewing without actually saying anything, except she is. Saying something. A very indoors voice.

Earnest has got to be the gassiest kitten I’ve ever known. He climbs up on the arm of the couch. *>>poot<<* He climbs onto my chest. *>>poot<<* I wave my hand in front of my face and dump him onto the couch next to me. "Earnie! You stink!"


Dunno what to make of that. He gets the same diet as everybody else. Maybe he needs a little cheese to stiffen his bowel. Or something. I dunno.

That’s right, folks. You heard it here first. Kitten crapblogging. Well, fartblogging.

Karma has discovered that there’s pets to be had. For months, now, she can’t be bothered to pay me any attention. She’ll run up into my lap, get two strokes, and then she’s off. But curl up on my chest? Puh-LEASE! That’s for babies.

But now that there are three kittens getting pretty much wall-to-wall pets and scritches, and sleeping on Daddy, she wants to get her some, too. This morning, I was getting dressed, and she ::bbblerrp!:: up onto the dresser. (That’s the grunt-of-effort noise cats make when they leap UP onto something. ::bbblerrrpp!::) And she reaches out a forepaw and bats my arm. “Pet me, Daddy!” Just like that. And, of course, I gave her some pets, but not enough. As I left the bedroom, she reached around the door and tapped my arm again. When I stopped and looked back, she peeked around the door. “PPppplease?” Just like Roger Rabbit.

Who can say “No” to that? I axe ya!

Bird’s gone. Place is quiet. For a change. I hope that Ditto enjoys himself at the clinic. Toni thinks he will. Not missing him, yet.

And that’s the farm report from Casa d’Alger.

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