edmund

Fair warning, it's not all that great of a video, and as an extra bonus you get to hear the froggy goofy Morning Voice, but this is what Mr. Bitey is like when it's just me. If this is what he's like after I had time to fumble out the cell phone camera and turn it on, you can imagine the amount of silly air biscuit goodness you missed prior to the video.

I present Edmund's nonverbal, but very clear, instructions to Jeff:

I spent a good chunk of the Super Bowl continuing repair work on the 1880s scrap quilt, Oregon Trail. It's been a bit disheartening at times; I keep reminding myself that everything I fix means this will be a better and stronger quilt when it is finally finished, but I've reached that psychological point where I'm ready to just be done with mending the damned thing already, and getting the reward of moving on to quilting it.

I did finally get some photos of what had been done to it, though. It was hard to describe in text when I said that part of the quilt had blown out (in the wash, maybe?) and pieces roughly hacked out from the bottom and crudely sewn over the holes in a rough approximation of repair. It's easier shown than explained.

He is a strange cat, difficult to predict, sometimes surprisingly intelligent, but often his intelligence is masked by his petulance. Tenzing is six, nearly seven; an age in which humans have begun to move toward full comprehension and conversational ability. I joke about my ‘eternal toddlers’ but there is truth in that statement, more truth than some people realize.While very much alike in appearance, Edmund and Tenzing are very different in temperament.

When I emerged after a rather exasperating day, I found this text file on my computer. It seems appropriate to share it with all of you, since it seems you’ve been privy to today’s events as they happened:

World,

It was a wonderful day, wasn’t it? Our toes are dirty and our fur is still warm from the sunlight. But we’re hungry, and it’s dark, and we both very very desperately want cuddles. My oh-so-silly-brother Tenzing is frantic, half-dazed, desperately rubbing up against the couch and love seat in an attempt to simulate scritchies. I want my ears rubbed, and I think the litterbox needs a touch of tending.

I just hope they speak to us after we unlock the closets we stuffed them in. Better yet, no speaking - just bites of Crunchy Cat Food, perhaps a play or two with the Toy-On-A-Stick. We’ll sniff the male one’s dinner and then, after he goes to bed, we’ll pile up on the bed and help the mommycat with her Spanish-language studies.

Tenzing is growing hungry, and is very unlikable right now. He has begun to pace and yowl. I think he needs attention. I tried grooming him, but he bit me on the ass. I guess that means he doesn’t want to be groomed.I think he’s missing the Crunchy Food we usually get every day. He went outside to hunt. Either he is dumber than I originally thought, or the mice are much smarter. The toy-on-a-stick always plays along when we want to hunt; why don’t the mice? I’m very confused.