Mom's feeling better. So much better that she cooked Sunday dinner. Sunday dinner means that other people come over and pet me and give me cookies when no one's looking. I like Sunday dinner. When Dad cooks, it means I get ham. Lots of glorious ham.
I have spent a lot of time looking at Mom when she plays with sticks. I finally got Dad to take a picture. Can you see what she's doing? She's taking perfectly good string and tying it in KNOTS. She says she makes sweaters (that little blonde girl named A is getting a new sweater. Mom made it and said not to sit on it. I like that little girl. She doesn't bite).
Here's mom with sticks. She laughs a lot. She smiles a lot. She smiles most when she sees my dad.
( Mini here... this is my annual--- this is me if you are looking for me at SPA on Saturday photo)
Back to the knots. Fig! Fig! (Hey, Sandy--- get Fig please). Fig, does your mom turn perfectly good string into knots? Do they not know we cannot play with it once it is in KNOTS.
Anyway... someone tell my mom to stop turning string into knots. Or sweaters or whatever.
Oh, I'm a self declared Demo-cat... and I am voting FLUFFY IN '08...
Psst... Fluff... wanna run on Fluffy/Pumpkin ticket?