It’s fucking Saturday, y’all. The day is starting off gray, and maybe it will clear up.1 Podrick came in for an early morning cuddle, as usual. For the most part, I cup my hand over his face like a muzzle while he sucks on my thumb or palm, and maybe I’ll fall asleep. He’s aggressive…
I’ve been up for an hour, and I’ve done nothing but yell PODRICK STOP! since I left the bedroom. He’s chasing Pippin, he’s climbing the kitchen drawers, he’s pinning Pippin, he’s in the sink, he’s chasing Pippin, he’s eating an expensive power cable. I locked Pippin in the bedroom, but she can’t stay there all…
It’s Friday Eve, and me and the cats are lounging in our spots. Podrick has been a cuddle bug all morning, both in bed and out. We snuggled under the covers, and he’s been in my lap a few times since I got up. Shawshank and I were hobby-slobs yesterday, refusing human forms in favor…