If It…

My apologies to anyone who came by yesterday expecting a Thanksgiving blog post. I decided to sleep late–and believe me, I’m very thankful for the unusual lack of telemarketers which allowed me to stay in bed as long as I did.

But I know there would be rioting in the streets–albeit small riots–if I didn’t have a post up today, so enjoy this picture of Sachiko in her new “phwone”.
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She enjoyed it so much when the box landed on the floor, we decided to leave it for a few days. Now we have to decide how long after Thanksgiving we’ll give her before we explain that it was only a temporary phwone.

Expressions

Rhubarb may be the house champion at loxing out, as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. But Yuki’s no novice at relaxation either.

Ever see a puddle of floof?
03-1If he was any more relaxed, we’d need to squeegee him out of the carpet.

That wasn’t an easy picture to take, by the way. Somebody has decided that if pictures are going to be taken, there’s only one possible subject.

So I got a lot of shots like this:
03-2And that’s actually one of the best shots of Yuki.  Most of them have a substantial portion of his body hidden by Rufus’ butt.

Don’t believe me when I say he’s doing it on purpose?

Is there any other interpretation of this expression than “how can you cheat on me with another cat?”
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Inspiration

A week or so ago, we had the rainstorm that traditionally marks the boundary between Summer and Indian Summer.

To nobody’s particular surprise, Tuxie took cover in Cape Odd that night. He’s slept there several nights since, even though it hasn’t rained again (yet). And he’s spending large chunks of the day sleeping on top of the shelter as well.

And when Tuxie sleeps, he sleeps.
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Sachiko finds him inspirational.
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That’s not her “Touch me again and I’ll rip off your hand” face (that one shows more teeth). It’s not her “I haven’t eaten anything in at least ten minutes. Feed me!” face (that one shows more teeth). It’s not even “Hey, I want some attention!” (that one shows more teeth).

Are you detecting a pattern here?

That’s an actual yawn. Two minutes after I took the picture, she was curled up on the rug, sound asleep.

Relaxicat

We often call Rhubarb our Smoked Salmon Boy.
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Not because of his appetite, though he does love to lick the lid when we open a can of salmon.

And not just because of his coloration, though he is a lovely salmon-orange and cream-cheese-white.

But mostly because he’s a cat who really knows how to put the lox in “loxing out”.

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(No, he’s not fond of that pun.  Or puns in general.)

And You Thought Herding Them Was Hard

03-1The weather is warming and, far more important, drying out. And that means that Tuxie is once again spending most afternoons flaked out on top of Cape Odd.

03-2Uh…

Have you noticed that even when MM is taking it easy, she never really sleeps? She’s always on the alert, defending her territory against all invaders.

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Oh, for crying out loud, guys!

Make up your minds, already! I’m trying to write a blog post here.

Look, our deal is that we supply the krunchiez, and you pose for the pictures, right? Right.

So–

What?

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Now you’re just doing it to annoy me.

Cats.

Wait’ll you see what I add to the food bowl tonight!

(Note to blog readers: It’s probably going to be some scraps of leftover cheese. What kind of lunatic did you think I was?)

Comfy?

Everyone has their own favored sleeping positions. On the back, curled on the left side, hanging upside down from the cave roof.

Rhubarb has one of the most specific comfort positions I’ve ever encountered.
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Note the careful alignment of the tail, so that the tip won’t brush his nose if it twitches in his sleep; the careful crossing of the left front leg and the right rear leg; and, of course, the all-important placement of the right front leg, the paw set just where it needs to be to hold the rear leg.

And what of the left rear leg? Where’s that?

Look closely. Very closely. If you peek between the tip of Rhubarb’s nose and the angle where the right legs overlap, you can see just a hint of the left rear leg. That’s right. It’s under his head, serving as a very fine, very snuggly pillow.

Ah, to be even half that flexible!