Mo had better get her act together because I'm running out of stuff to say.
My days are pretty much the same. My mom likes to nap almost as much as I do, so we do that a lot. I spend a bunch of time on patrol in my window, keeping our condo safe. I spar daily with a series of balls to keep my reflexes, and my nails, sharp. I eat and beg Mom for treats every once in a while -- I've gotten pretty good at catching them in my paws. Maura comes over a couple of times a week to go digging for gold in my Littermaid, then we play until I get tired of it and take refuge under the bed.
But that's about it. Not exactly an endless source of cat chat. So I'm hoping to lay low for a while, as much fun as the comments about mice have been.
Let's wrap this up then. Since there are only two people in the whole world we can count on to send us photos, I'm doing what Maura called "going back to the well." This is, of course, my good friend, Squeaky. It looks to me like she's laying on the most uncomfortable bed ever. I'm not sure what it is, but it sure is shiny.
Later, people.
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