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Did you just hear a crash? Because I thought I heard a crash.
Yep, that was the ceiling in the mudroom, I think.
*crash*
You think?
Yuh-huh. We heard the crash all the way out at Castle Gaiman.
Did someone say crash, because I didn’t hear anything. Also Ima trying to nap here.
I iz same size as hole, I fits!
You just keep telling yourself that…
This is what fitting looks like.
Who needs to fit when there iz laps?
You’re all unfit!
Bonus drawer full of ebil!
Matt Kuchta has been listening to the cats and adding things to the shopping list again.
But if you bought me a jetpack, I might have to _do_ something…
And I’m much more interested in my toes than moon landings.
I kick myself just thinking about it.
Walruses don’t jet, nor do they like lasagna.
Wait, dudes, I would totally rock a jetpack!
Oh, goody, the manic phase of book launch. Wake me when it’s over.
Is something going on?
Wait what?
Dude, you think we care? Dat’s the funniest thing ever.
You think yours is bad? You should see what mine does when a book comes out.
A Friday Cat Blogging Credo:
Lurk with intent
Sleep with reckless abandon
Stop and smell the rosezzzzzzzzzzzzz
View the world with worry and paranoia
And don’t forget to mock the photographer
Last night a grand dame of the cat world left us. Princess was the cat of my friend Neil Gaiman. She was a once-wild, wonderful, fierce, old lady with a mean streak a mile wide and fur like white silk. She sent more than one person to the hospital, and spilled my blood on at least one memorable occasion. She was beautiful and tough and more than half a creature of faery. She was also my friend—I visited her nearly daily while borrowing Neil’s running paths—and I loved her dearly. I will miss her, as I know Neil will, along with a whole lot of other people. She touched many lives in her twenty-two-plus years. Because I haven’t the heart for words right now, here are some of my favorite pictures of her (a few have captions because they insisted on it, but most don’t):
This is the very first picture I ever took of her in January of 2011
She loved to drink out of the tap, and insisted that the humans oblige her
She wasn’t often cuddly, but was very fierce about it when she was
This is my favorite shot of her
Because some pictures must be shared
She started drinking out of my glass when she was too tired to go down to the sink
Simply beautiful
She was so fierce
Pretty sure she was trying to figure out how she’d reach the gas pedal
With her long time housemate Coconut
Sleeping in the library
Claiming me for her own
And this is the last picture I took of her—napping on my lap shortly before leaving us
Goodbye Princess, you had a hell of run
My monkey is not in here, have you seen my monkey?
I see dead monkeys!
My monkey is kind of blurry…or that might be the vodka…
I haz a monkey, and you don’t.
I want a monkey too!
I eat monkeys.
The monkeys took all the good chairs*. 🙁
*Special guest cat courtesy of Scott Lynch.
I am very unsure about my toes.
I am very unsure about this ledge.
I am very unsure about becoming a bridge.
I am very unsure about the width of this radiator bench.
I am very unsure about the other cat.
I am very unsure about me too.
I am very unsure about the cameraman.
I am very unsure about last night’s whiskey.
I am very unsure if this radiator will keep me safe.
Be sure that it won’t.
Kitty Mug Shots Edition
Arrested for: Moping with intent
Arrested for: Advanced thuggery, but really regrets it.
Arrested for:Sleeping on the grass
Arrested for: Dude, is that catnip!
Arrested for: Drunk and disorderly
Arrested for: Devouring the souls of the living
