The omnipresence of the paparazzi is one of the hardest things to get used to when you become a star. Don’t sweat it. So long as you keep your pretty whiskers groomed and your shirt front bright white, you’ll never take a bad photo.
Who is crueler, Human Daddy, who makes an unreasonable rule like no Cats in the bedroom while the Humans are at work, or Human Mommy who enforces said rule?
You know what would be nice, Santa Claws? A new, comfy doggy bed. The floor is hard, Santa Claws, and we believe the Meowies have perfumed our blanket more than once.
–Stella and Cosmo
Everyone gets a Catsmas stocking in my new home, including me.
In response to the comnents on my earlier post, please allow me to submit photographic evidence that I still fit on Human Daddy’s lap, sort of.
It’s hard to wait for Human Daddy’s lap, particularly when there is a Meowie installed on his lap, making snide comments about how you no longer fit anyway.
Nothing tops off a weekend as well as a hearty Sunday Brunch with a friend.
–Amber and Luna
In my defense, it’s hard to resist unstuffing a stuffy, particularly a stuffy shaped like a giant cookie.
Santa Claws, I really hope that this won’t remove me from the nice list. I mean, you like cookies too, right?
I’m a Good Puppy, Santa Claws. I haven’t even barely nibbled on Mr. Gingerbread Man yet.
Humans, you have not known true joy until you have stumbled out of bed to find yourself surrounded by a pride of lions.
Coffee can wait. Get busy opening our cans of wet food. They don’t call us apex predators for nothing and there is only one of you and seven of us, not counting the new cub upstairs.
–Darth Vader, Phelps, Lily, Charlie, Quicksilver, Amber and Finnegan