Anyone who reads this blog knows that Webster is my sun and stars.
Today the light has gone dark.
Anyone who reads this blog knows that Webster is my sun and stars.
Today the light has gone dark.
Good boy. Goooooood boy. You’re my gooboy.
Why do we say this to our cats constantly? What makes them so praiseworthy when they’re eating or staring at us or just being happy?
Warning: this will not be my most articulate blog post.
Today I beseech you for your prayers for a cat. More precisely, the cat. The cat who puts the twist in my tail, the bend in my ends, the sprinkle on my cupcake.
Be it known: there are no plain cats.
There are mutts and mysteries and marvels and mackerel tabbies. But no plain, boring cats. There are, however, “plain brown tabbies.” And, fortunately for our kitties, there is also a Plain Brown Tabby Toys and Treats.
It’s too late for us.