Touching Toes

 As much as Cleo loves sitting and sleeping on her mom and me, it's that time of year when she prefers to be by herself on a chair or the floor. We take it personally, and she tries to tell us that it's not us, that it's the warmer weather. She says it's not all that uncommon with cats.  Anyway, when she does sit with us she likes to touch something- a hand or forearm, for example.  She was sitting with her mom the other day and I snapped this picture of her just chilling with her paw on her mom's foot.  Is this adorable or what?

Sure, it's likely that she's just stretching out, or she just happens to be sitting that way, but we tell ourselves it's out of love that she does this.  And that makes us happy.

Our Elegant Tortie Queen

Her Majesty in all her Royal splendor

and a profile shot

Critter TV

 I'm sure it's nothing out of the ordinary for most of you kitties, but lately Cleo's been getting into birds and other critters on TV.  She'll watch with great fascination as they flit back and forth across the screen, and it's especially amusing when they go off-screen and she gets right up on the keyboard to look around and behind the screen, trying to see where they went.  

I guess I just foolishly assumed that, for a senior kitty such things wouldn't be of interest to her.  

I'm not sure who is more easily entertained- her watching the animals, or her mom and I watching her watching the animals.

Early Girly Lady Lounger

Well, it's been a hectic week since Mother's Day, hence the delay in posting something new.

Let me translate this for you:

Dad's got nothing new to say.

I've been pretty busy with work and such, and just haven't had the time to look through my "Cleo" folder for good post photos.

Dad's got no imagination.

This morning was a new record for Mrs. Grumpy Lady Cat Her Highness She-Who-Rules-the-Kingdom.  Not even 3:00 it was when I heard her.

And the problem is what, exactly?

Well dear old girl, you usually wait until at least 3:00.

Once again, what's the problem here?

I'm kind of tired, Cleo.  Leave me alone.

Whiner.

So here's how I spent portions of the nicer days this past week.  Those loungers aren't just for human butts.  Check out my shadow in the last one. Kinda like there's two of me.

Perish the thought...

 

Side note:  Mom and dad just completed round two of their vaccine stabbies.  Mom felt a little off for a while that night but dad claims he didn't have any negative side effects.

Mom and Me

Here's to my mom, the best mom in the world.  She's patient, loving, caring and is well aware that she's blessed with the most awesome feline companion a mom could ever want.

Far as I'm concerned, every day is Mother's Day since I'm such a treat to have around, wouldn't y'all agree?  Here's me and mom and her permanent diet cola fixture chillaxin' on the new lounger they just bought for the patio.  Yesterday was bright and sunshiney, though the winds had a little bite now and then.  We enjoyed the fresh air, and dad actually got a little red on his chest and a typical sunblock lecture from mom when she saw it.

Happy Mother's Day, mom.  I love you!  And Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there as well.

Stupid Human Tricks

One of my favorite treats!

 I'm sure y'all have seen them old Letterman "Stupid Pet Tricks" bits, but check this out-  I've gotten mom and dad to perform like trained monkeys, and they don't even realize it.  

Notice how I've got dad begging me to "Be nice."? That's because I've had to put the bitey on his fingers a few times early on in his training.  If they only had an inkling that they're trained to do this trick for my enjoyment entirely they'd be all, like, "What are we, circus animals?!"  Oh, if they only knew.  Whenever I want a treat all I have to do is sit up on my hind quarters, and along they come, practically pouring these tasty morsels into my mouth.  How's that for ruling the roost?

Dad's Mean Streak

 Since we moved out here dad's job has proven to be  physically demanding at times, especially for one inching his way to 60.  This has made mom's job as nutrition coach/mom/doctor/personal trainer/worried wife a little easier.  For years she struggled to get him to shed some of his, umm, layers, but lately things have turned in the opposite direction.  Now she finds herself trying to figure out a way to add things to his daily intake that are good for him and will satisfy his late-morning hungries yet won't make him pack the pounds back on.  Mom's even got a calendar up next to dad's coffee maker so he knows what he can eat each day, and besides seasoned, cooked kale, canned salmon and veggie sausage patties one of his favorite breakfast additions is sardines.  Dad says he could eat sardines all day long, no matter what time.

Who gets a pre-breakfast breakfast?  What I wouldn't give to get treats like this!

It's a good thing I'm kinda in the shadows so you can't see the daggers I'm giving the big meanie.

On an unrelated note- Dad's dear departed youngest brother, who gave dad the sarcophagus mentioned in a post from August 27, 2017 and elsewhere would've turned 50 today.  Some of you may remember the sarcophagus, which sits in the living room right next to me currently, is the final resting place for old Orbit, dad's older bud Isaac and dear little Grayson.