In case you were wondering, it is the epitome of Manliness to cozy up on a heaty pad.
Especially when it's chilly!
Mommy squee'd when she saw me lounging on the sofa, toasting my tummy and oozing Grey Handsomeness but since she grabbed the camera instead of me I was forced to turn up the charm to get some pettings:
Do you see this sheet I'm sat upon? They're flannel, covered in kitties, and they're NEW!
Mommy got them from her folks as a fun Birthday present (not yet, January 31st--ed.) and she immediately laundered and put 'em into service.
The flannel fabric is verreh comfy on my sensitive hairy behind, and I told Mommy just how happy I was about that. You won't have to turn up the sound very much to hear me purring like a locomotive:
I apologize for the quality, Mommy had to grab her old tablet to get these...and the lighting wasn't the best...I hope my purr and chitchat makes up for it a little.
As you know, just very recently I have decided to be a sooky la la on Mommy's lap grace her with my Manly presence every morning, like so:
I tell you, she has the cosiest pants (velour!), and that is the SOLE reason I sit on her.
Really.
Well, OK, she's warm. I'll grant you that.
And, frankly, it's the Height of Manliness to show off my shiny Ornj furs against such a vivid background. It would practically be a crime against fashion to pass by the opportunity for such a color contrast.
So I HAVE to do this; it's more like a Mancat Job than a pleasure.
So, even when I turn around and get good and settled in the Leg Canyon™--making biscuits and chirping and purring like a motorboat--I'm always the Epitome of Manliness, despite several malicious rumors to the contrary...
...and damning video evidence of me enduring loving every second of my Mancat Duties.
If there's one thing all of us cats here at the Lounge enjoy (even Scouty!) it's playing with string. This can be risky--swallowed string can turn into a very Bad Business, as some of our pals have learned first-hand. So we compromise with a short string on a wand, and always supervised play. (Mommy ties a few knots in the end for Sylvester. His claws are gone so this way he can grip the string almost naturally.)
The string toy lives in a drawer when we're done playing, and Mommy hopes--if she ever would forget and leave it out by accident--that the shorter length would translate into less string ingested. Not that she ever wants to test the theory...and she uses natural hemp string so if we do eat any little frays while playing that they're non-toxic.
Anyway. I love the string toy; here's a little movie of me killing it mercilessly. Sorry it's so badly lit, Mommy shot it late at night and she's a lazy tight-wadded wench who won't put on the lights so it's kinda glarey.
Mommy took some photos of us, and because of her ineptness for some strange reason they all came out a little blurry. So, she decided to try making lemonade and uploaded 'em into a photo editor to play!
We really like them now, after using the Orton effect filter.
