Clothing the cats continues…

Matt and I went on a search for a fan last night that took us to nine stores. That’s not an exaggeration. No one sells fans in January. Some of the stores we went to, like the pawn shop, probably never sell them but we were curious. Amidst all the stolen tools and stereo equipment, we found a  piece of wood with taxidermied deer feet bent so that, I’m assuming, you can hang stuff on them. Eventually, we ended up at a dollar store and came home with this winner!


“I will ho-ho-hurt you.”


“You still smell the same.”


[Plotting his revenge.]


“Seriously? WTF, you guys?”


We decided that Tabitha wanted to join in. She decided that she wouldn’t give us the satisfaction of a photo-op.


So, I made an executive decision.




that escalated quickly.


We got the sweater on Quinny without getting his arms in and he shot upstairs like a bullet. When I got there, he was sitting next to it staring defiantly at me. Milo actually kind of liked it, though.


So, he headed upstairs…


…leaving a bewildered (and somewhat murderous) Quinny behind.


  1. I just found a tasteful hooded santa sweater (actually a small dog sweater) for my Russian blue, Parker. Scarlet edged in white. It has a black buckled belt knitted into the pattern. The hood has a little white pom pom on it. Fits like it was tailored for him. Parker likes it.
    He’s outside sitting atop the fence gazing at the landscape as I write this. Village children (& parents) across the street point at him and squeal with delight. He’s ignoring them, of course, with olympian distain. Santa Claws has come to town.

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