ExecuCat

Yes, indeed. Cats are evil geniuses hellbent on world domination. Hank is no exception. Today, my computer chair. Tomorrow, hair ball. Thursday, the world. (Friday, Starbucks.)

Laid to Rest

From the box it came in:

"MEMORY FOAM
TermoPedic Temperature Smart Pet Bed
2 Inch Memory Foam
Temperature Smart
Relieves Pressure
- Adjusts to body heat and weight
- Ideal for dogs with arthritis & hip dysplasia [BOTH? Poor dog!]
- Machine washable zipper cover

Try it!
You've got to feel it to believe it!

Hypoallergenic"






I think the Memory Foam forgot.

Overambitious

o·ver·am·bi·tious
adj.
Volunteering to wash not one, but two extra-large trash bags of dirty, poopy laundry for the Humane Society.

Three catnip mice...

Three catnip mice.
Three catnip mice.
See all their entrails.
See all their entrails.
They were intended for Hank the Cat,
Xena sliced them open like Mortal Combat.
Did you ever see a dog as vicious as that?
Three catnip mice.

Bon Appétit

Mailbox Pleasantries

Happiness!



(Regarding Pet Photography.)

Declaration of Indigestion

When in the Course of chewing events it becomes necessary for one Dog to shred anything it can wrap its jaws around to tiny little rubbery pieces, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind is generally ignored.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that teeth of bone crushing strength are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Chew Toys and the destruction of said Chew Toys. -- That to secure these Rights, one Dog might carry around the same Toy for days, -- That whenever said ancient toy disintegrates between one Dog's massive jaws, ingestion of several chunks of said chew toy is unavoidable.



"The Cheeks" are gone. Toy of Buddy, toy of Xena, toy of Bailey, toy of Bartholomew.