My laptop is perched on my knees with my can in front of it, my left wrist his make-shift neck rest, and he's purring happily. Yoda's 22, and I think he prefers a warm lap and wrist-neck-rest any day. :)
I was going to send this to my mom but there's that Vida Guerra ad at the bottom left with her huge butt all in your face. Not quite send-to-mom material.
Don't get me wrong--all cats rock, including this one. But my cat does this all the time. In fact, every cat I've ever been around does this. Not that uncommon, and not really worth a digg.
DOG DIARY
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre
little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the
other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I
nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an
attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I
decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had
hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly
demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was
placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However,
I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my
confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this
means, and how to use it to my advantage.
This morning I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one
of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must
try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the e stairs. I am convinced
that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and
seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with
the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so
he is safe.