Be wery quiet….
We’re hunting wabbit….
What’s up, Doc?
Heeeey…that’s not a wabbit!
Esme: Why are you always in my face?
Esme: Kiss it. Just kiss it!
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I’m not sure what the Sweet Potato Queens guidelines say on this, but I do notice that the apology was not accompanied by a cupcake.”—Hippie Cahier
Haaaaaave you met Peg? I blog crush on her and her Reese’s Cups. (No, that’s not an euphemism.)
Have you heard about Peg’s series Freshly Pegged? That’s where I am today. Because you know who deserves to be Freshly Pegged?
Someone who laughs in the face of danger.
Someone who walks straight into a wolf’s den and says, “I’m not afraid of you.”
Someone who loves all things furry.
Me.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I once went on a date with a guy that I’m sure had his mother in his freezer at home. He spoke to me with his head tilted to the left and didn’t move his lips when he spoke. During the date I texted my BFF, ‘I know that he wants to wear my boobs for a hat, I do not want to be material for nipple beanies!’ I toughed out the comedy show and made a quick getaway. Thankfully he didn’t know where I live. Dating sucks.”—TrippyBeth
Do do… (Think the Jaws theme.)
Do do…
Do do do do do do!
Favorite Comments From Last Post:
Usually in human-pet relationships, the human is the “parent,” and the pet is the “child.”
Sometimes Esme gets confused, and she tries to be the parent. Usually she uses discipline: she scratches me.
Just when I start to wonder if Esme really loves me or if she just loves scratching me, she does something a loving parent would do.
She sleeps by my head to…
Or she sleeps by my head because she knows her loud purring will wake me up an hour before my alarm, annoying me so much that I may get up and feed her just to get her to stop.
That might be it.
I consider myself an animal person. I love them all the cute ones equally.
Please see Exhibit A for my love of penguins (specifically Pete), Exhibit B for my love of wolves, and Exhibit C for my love of dolphins.
In the ongoing cat vs. dog debate, I choose cats. Only because cats are lower maintenance. Esme once opened the cabinet where her food was because she was hungry. So when I’m away on travel for a couple days, Esme Kitty can take care of herself.
And when I come back, she forgets she’s a cat, and she acts like a dog by showing me how much she missed me and licks my forehead.
No, I did not smear tuna juice on my forehead for this photo op.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “You could always do what I did to scare my OBGYN away. I accidentally let one go and I think we all wished we were dead afterward. No need to explain why I didn’t go back. He didn’t come looking for me either.”—So I Went Undercover
