Edmund is weak. He wants his mommycat. He is becoming whiny. Perhaps I should treat him as he treats me - a nice, brotherly bite on the butt to remind him who is boss.Loud banging noises coming from closets. The female one is especially unhappy. She is yelling promises of food and treats to Edmund, who is dangerously close to giving in. He doesn't seem to understand that we are predators, capable of hunting and killing our own food with nothing more than our wits and our delicately-taloned paws.

Need for belly scritchies is becoming near-desperate. When we chose the female one years ago, we were not warned of the addictive danger of belly scritchies. They should come with a warning label.

After we wandered in from our nap - what a glorious day it is outside! - I left the humans a present on the floor. They'll think Edmund did it; they always do.

It has been such a beautiful day: grass and sunshine and romping and eating all of the kitty treats with my brother. I slept on the kitchen table and drank out of the sink and made sure to throw extra paws' worth of litter around the bathroom just to make a point.

I am growing hungry. The female one would feed us in the afternoon, but she is - ha! - unavailable at the moment. Therefore, I shall glory in the joy of the hunt and the power of the kill. For I am Tenzing - predatory, silent, and fearless.