Christmas Eve from the Pod

Gibbs? Yeah, whattya want? Well aren’t we Mr. Grumpy Pants… I’m busy sleeping in my Christmas present. You mean OUR Christmas present, right? Mom bought the new cat tree for the both of us. Whatever… Gibbs! Why are you acting like the cigar you left in the litter box? I guess I’m a little down today. Why today? It’s Christmas Eve. Santa is going to leave something for us tonight, although he has big shoes to fill. Mom outdid himRead more

Yeah, why would you?

Gibbs and Ziva don’t have to ask me that question. They have a catnip banana. No need to chew on a piece of fruit. This post has been brought to you by the 2018 Texts from Mittens the Cat calendar and Linda Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday. If you are wondering what One-Liner Wednesday is all about, CLICK HERE. Linda G. Hill is the Queen of One-Liners and rules over her kingdom of followers. Check out today’s post and commit yourself to join theRead more

Guilty as Charged

“What do you think they’re going to do to us when they find us guilty?” she says after a few minutes of silence have passed. “Honestly?” “Does now seem like the time for honesty?” I look at her from the corner of my eye. “I think they’re going to force us to eat lots of [tuna] cake and then take an unreasonably long nap.” ~Veronica Roth, Insurgent~ The Crime Cat shoves papers off the human’s computer desk while she sleeps.Read more

The Island of Misfit Pets

Originally posted on The Jackie Blog:
photo cred: tao lin on Flickr ? I did it guys. I finally got a new cat. I know you were worried. That’s why I sent out last week’s blog post as a silent cry for help on the wind rather than written words. Because I was preoccupied with forcing two distinct members of an incredibly territorial species to work through determining who the Alpha between them will be without losing fur or blood…

Talkin’ Food

He’s a talker, that one. I wish I knew what he was saying. He wants something. Perhaps love. Perhaps prey. Or perhaps nothing but to hear the sound of his own plea. Food, human, food! Don’t you understand? He yowls, that one. I wish I knew what it meant. Is he scolding someone? For the bane of winter enclosed? For lack of a thousand cat toys? Or maybe nothing but to admire the sound of his own majesty. Food, human,Read more

I Want What I Want!

Gibbs has been encouraging me to sign up for Writing 201: Poetry at the Daily Post.  I have resisted up to this point, so Mr. Blister (Natasha’s name for this one) decided he would take a stab at this writing style with both gray paws and his self-serving attitude. I think it’s a little Dr. Seuss-ish, but read on and decide for yourself. I want what I want! Right here and now There are no negotiations This I vow  Read more