We've got mail!

ALOHA TO OUR SECRET PAWS! All the way from Hawaii!! Tack så mycket, as they say in Sweden.

It's the first time we've ever gotten mail addressed to us, so we were furry, furry excited. We are very very sorry we didn't post anything earlier, but we just got them last week as the Swedish mail system is...convuluded....to put it mildly. It sat in a post office for a week or two before that before Curiosa was able to figure out where to pick them up. Our favorite...is the blue feather wand!! Vessa (formerly known as Saga) demonstrates:

And you can also see the toys we made out of the chenelle rods you sent us, and we are sorry that a few extra mice that you didn't send us snuck into the picture. But the more mice, the merrier!

So when can we come to Hawaii to visit?

The sun, the moon, and the stars (and Kukka-Maria is the biggest star I know)

Someone thinks she's being sneaky

No title necessary

Upclose and purr-sonal

I want in on the fish banquet action

This is the kind of news article that should brighten the days of any kitties with plans to raise cat armies to take over the world.

Cat army annihilates destructive rats
China Daily
2006-04-12

A group of villagers recently prepared a sumptuous fish banquet for more than 200 cats to thank them for eradicating rats from their farmland.

Yangmei villagers in Sanjiang Township of Xinhui District in the city of Jiangmen, Guangdong Province, are expecting a good harvest this year thanks to the hard-working cats.

The village committee spent more than 12,000 yuan (US$1,500) to buy more than 200 cats, which they released onto farmland to help wipe out the rat problem.

Sanjiang Village has 86.67 hectares of rice fields and 13.33 hectares of other crops and suffered from a rat infestation after most of the snakes were caught and slaughtered by local villagers in previous years.

Kitten War!

We very blatantly stole this idea from Buddah, via Max, but we're now on Kitten War as well. Sixty-eight percent ain't too shabby at all.

They are for ME! Hand 'em over, already.

Dude.

Not Dude as in the Dude, but Dude, as in Man, oh, Dude. Like a surfer would say.

Life is so unfair for us furry ones.

The Dude brought back a whole suitcase full of cat toys and other things for us from the States. Which is great!

But I can smell them in Curiosa's backback and she won't let me have them until the Dude can come over himself and give them to me (okay, fine, US, I know I have to share with the Mini Kitten). Curiosa wants to reassure me that he is trying to make up to me.

I get it. It's fine. He's fine. He's great. He's PURR-fect. He has my undying gratitude for his wonderful offerings to the Goddess of Feline Amusement. He's my new best friend. I love him more than life itself. If I weren't a cat, he would make me want to be gay. He's lovely. Now I understand what you see in him. Blah blah blah.

Now just give me the damn toys, already!

Load of crap

I'm beginning to suspect the whole thing is just a female conspiracy.

The Dude, with the exception of his requisite chin scratches, leaves me well enough alone. He hardly comes near me, let alone tries to d-r-o-w-n me. In fact, I think he may very well be on my side, since he cringes whenever Curiosa mentions the word "nooter." He also whispered to me that he'll go and hold my paw when D-Day finally arrives.

And my little sister, the Mini Kitten (also known as Vessa, since my pal Fat Eric was wondering), stayed suspiciously dry throughout the whole event.

You guessed it. Today was bathtime. Again.

I really don't give a rat's ass (and if I had one, I sure as heck wouldn't give it up) that it was me who stepped in the poop (BY ACCIDENT!) and started to track it through the apartment. It's not my fault that my fur is so long and luxurious that stuff gets stuck in it. And it's an honor for Curiosa that I let her sleep in my bed, so she's just being ungrateful to say she doesn't want to sleep with a smelly cat. (Besides, the Mini Kitten is the one who drops the deadly cat bombs!)

I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that I have once again joined the ranks of the poor little wet cats.

Don't you just feel so, so sorry for me?

P.S. Unlike last time, there was no bowling bag involved, so Curiosa has stuck to her promise on that one, but I swear to God she uttered the phrase, "I hereby solemnly swear to never, ever again attempt to bathe His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2." Where there any witnesses?

Happy Purr-thday!

Wish the Dude happy purr-thday! (He's like 127 in cat years!)