Good Morning To You

Good morning to you/We're all in our places with bright, shiny faces/good morning to you.

Brightest and shiniest of all, Tam's cat.

Rannie the cat begged bacon grease and a little of the skin from my half-a-mettwurst this morning. She's quite insistent about the grease -- I fried up three strips of bacon to divide between two adults (then realized the sands of time were about to run out on the remaining mettwurst) and by golly, she was going to get her fair share, no matter what names she had to call me! It's about as vocal as she gets, with the occasional swipe at my foot as I walk by if she thinks I haven't noticed her complaints.

Scraps of sausage skin, on the other hand, cause The Rannie to go bipedal and hold onto my hand with great and clawless delicacy, lest she miss out on any of it.

Afterward, it's time for a cat-bath. Roseholme Cottage features one of the few bacon-scented cats!

Meanwhile, Huck the Miniature Broad Ripple Biting Tiger has been prowling his domain. He spurns grease, preferring nice crunchy kibble. From a distance, moving through dappled sunlight on the oak floor, his stripes are an effective camouflage -- then when he moves closer, I find myself amazed all over again: his back is almost as high as the seat of the couch! For a housecat, he's huge. Which is why I think of him as a very tiny tiger, instead.