While puttering around as I wait to go over to John
and Becca’s
for dinner and Farscape,
I came across this photograph:

It was out from when I was rummaging around for pictures of Chelsea.

My husband has a way with cats, or, I should say, has his way with cats. Now,
now, nothing nasty, he just can’t believe that there exists a cat that
couldn’t benefit from a petting and a cuddle from him personally. Even
cats he hasn’t been properly introduced to. In fact many is time that
he will make me nervous as we walk about our neighborhood, picking up strange
cats for a cuddle right in front of their house. He always puts them back where
he finds them, but, still. Those cats’ peoples might get the wrong idea.

Kip also has a certain expectation of cats, and is horribly disappointed that
our felines
don’t grok shoulder surfing. Unlike Radclyffe (kitten on the left) who
will still partake of his shoulder when we visit Barry and all. Mosley (kitten
on the right) never really took to it.

Well, I must be off. John and Becca’s cats, DJ and Buddy, will momentarily
be getting the special Kip treatment.