Cats

First of all, Rhae made me mitts, because she is wonderful. They are soft and scrumptious and smell like Damascus rose.

You can't have them, They're MINE. (Thanks Rhae!)

And about the cats...

The balance of power has changed here at chez Lane.  I'm trying to decide exactly how to fix things, but cats are particular creatures, you understand?

Gordie hates me because he thinks I'm the reason Chicken left. This is fact.

Gordie should love me, because I have reintroduced wet food into the dietary regime of our cats. This is also fact.

Newt Dewey loves me, because he loves everybody. This is fact.

Newt Dewey loves me in particular because I give the magic wet food. Again, a fact.

Newt Dewey also loves me in particular because I am the one who wakes up and pets him at o-crotch-thirty and I also laugh at him when he lands on the dogs' heads, causing great confusion. You know, fact.

Steve used to love me best because we were both bitch queens in a tiny stinky kingdom and she liked it that way.

Steve now hates me.  These are both sad truths.

Gordie now tolerates me.

Newt Dewey loves me in a very general way.

And the dogs are too stupid to understand that the balance of power has, indeed changed. They have initiated the following sequence of events:

Geoffie will plan to rush Newt Dewey because he is The Dreaded Cat.  Gordie will jump in front of Newt Dewey and stare Geoffie into running in the opposite direction, because Gordie is the REAL dreaded cat. Geoffie will ru n right into Steve and get beat up, because she hates ALL THE THINGS not me, but she also hates me because there is one more thing NOT ME in the house.

So, as you can see, there is a delicate balance of fur, hubris, and irritation going on in my tiny, stinky house. (We won't discuss what Gordie did behind the Christmas tree before we took it down. Let's just say I wanted to shove a lump of coal up that cat's ass.)

Because of that, the following peaceful convocation of cats was both welcome and...

Very, very suspicious.

If my family and I disappear in a while, do me a favor.

Be kind to all fat mice.

You never known if one of them is wearing teeny tiny glasses and tapping on a cell phone with her mittened little paws.