So there was no post yesterday for what you, gentle reader, will probably call the laziest reason ever: I couldn’t get Roo to write it for me. He’s in his room from 0500-0900ish these days since Daniel is home to shuffle cats around, and during that time he likes to tromp all over my keyboard since my computer is now in his Echo Chamber, that’s why sometimes I use his carrier to keep him there so I can work a little, and since is really spacious he’s comfortable there, if you want Information on cat carriers and other related products, this site will help you too.
Unless, of course, I open up a blank document and leave it there for him to work his authorial magic. I mean, we’re talking a cat who somehow managed to create a whole new folder holding the twitter user icons of everyone who was on my twitter front page at that point, it’s not like he doesn’t know how to use a computer! He’s opened windows on Daniel’s laptop that Daniel, who is way more computer savvy than I am, doesn’t know how to get to. But apparently expecting him to write one little blog post is just too much to ask.
In other news, Zillekins is gradually growing to respect the fact that when Daniel asks her to do something, like come inside, she needs to go ahead and do it. On the other hand, she’s also taken up waking us with frustration barking around 0400, which is annoying as all get out. Tink has resigned herself to sleeping in a dog bed in the bedroom instead of on the people bed, bless her heart, but we’re still negotiating with Rooney Lee over the level of night-time obnoxiousness he’s allowed to present before I get tired of it, get up, and toss him out of the room and close the door. For the record, stabbing me in the thigh with his claws? Not allowed.
Meanwhile the wedding is in three weeks and some change and we’re flailing around doing last minute stuff, like finishing the ceremony and this weekend we’ll go rent Daniel a suit. My poor beloved has either acquired some good ol’ American germs or is deathly allergic to the entire state of Virginia, could go either way really. Beowulf continues to deeply adore him, Tink finds him an acceptable substitute for me when I’m at work, and Braxton Bragg has condescended to snuggle him a few times now in a moving display of not wanting him dead. Brax is many things but not a trusting soul, bless his heart.