cats

Caturday

For some unknown reason, Gizzie’s inner alarm went off at dark-thirty. He snuggled, sat on my chest and purred to the extent that I swear the nearest tectonic plate was vibrating.

Kitties must get early breakfast on Caturdays, you know, especially this babyface boy.

He went from incessant dish banging to finally napping after his third breakfast. What’s not to love!

Roger, on the other hand, required breakfast a little slower, a couple of liedowns, only three outside trips, and he was good.

Very good, in fact. He’s such a polite boy.

What’s not to love about our tawny little porch lion?

The other two scene stealers are also napping appropriately. They missed pictures today, though. They said to wait for it.