Swarm

Rocco

Coco

The other night I couldn’t sleep to save my life. Why not? Eh, hot flashes, worries and what not. The important thing here is, I came downstairs at one AM, shocking and delighting the cats — Coco and Rocco.

Naturally they needed brekkie right there and then, followed by mega copious pats.

"Oh LOOK, our doormat's up! Finally she's on our schedule and not selfishly sleeping the wee hours of the morning away."

After slopping the mini herd I sat down at the computer to read email, depressing political blogs, take stupid quizzes and play Words with Friends. And then (cue up the spooky tunes soundtrack) I got an unsettling feeling. Someone was watching me. At this point I felt a soft push on my thigh and one to my shoulder and jumped three feet straight up.

Rocco was sitting next to my chair. Coco was sitting directly behind me on the dining room table. My tuxes were swarming me, both making it all crystal clear and shit that I needed to give them more attention right that minute!

You know what this means don’t you? Yes, I had to pat the two of them at the very same time because, of course, they'd feel desperately hurt otherwise.

"How can you pat him/her and not ME? Don't you love me anymore?"

 I have two of the most insecure cats on the planet.

And, just so you know, The Amazing Bob's just informed me that Gaston (AKA Loud Boy) and Gus have yet to show their hungry whiskered faces this gorgeous Saturday morning. He suspects they're in town to watch the Regatta.

Of course!