We call this the "Death Kitty", and, no, it's not related to the "Death Cat" of this post,
(...or this, this or this.)
(Jesus. I sure gave that furry litte bastard some bandwidth, didn't I?)
Anyway, this is a different Death Kitty: Death Kitty, the Handbag! Cute, no? One of the many adorable creations from Skullcat Designs- check 'm out!.
It was a tough choice between Death Kitty...
...and Little Beaver lovin' his log. How totally fucking kick ass adorable can you get!?!?!
Anyway, Mojo loves her goth kitty handbag, and I love Mojo sporting her frisky new sporty clothes and fun accessories. Win-win, baby!
So this time? No need to fear the arrival of the Death Cat!
10 comments:
Back to death cat: that was one scary story, couched in a homey telling. I picture a Day of the Dead reel, and everyone just running like hell when this cat approaches.
What's wrong with these people? Can't they see -- the cat's a killer! Where's the comfort there?
(I liked the graphic of McCain wisely running away as the cat approached.)
Niiiice bag, Mojo. You certainly deserve it, Momma M, especially with the "new you" and all. I'm proud of you and your commute.
cute cute cute!!! And, I love the beaver one, too! Aww!!
Lisa: I liked the one blogger's assessment of the Death Cat as scavenger and his frustration that, having staked out these soon-to-be-entrees, the dumb humans kept whisking his meals away right when they got table-ready.
W: Believe me, this little bag is just the tip of the fashionberg. Mommy Mojo is stylin', and I really want to do a fashion photoshoot of her new togs. She's a knockout.
WZ: These little bags are all totally adorable, and they're made of a super-durable vinyl, too. Found them at their booth down at Saturday Market and loved them to death.
Chief,
The communication between species does not flow. I imagine the cat still feels the sabre-toothed tiger within, and is preternaturally on the hunt for food.
I love the old wives tales about cats entering cribs to suck the life out of newborn babes. (Early explanation for SIDS.)
We humans fear such little things--cats and rats and snakes.
Lisa: if you lived with our cats, you'd fear them, too.
Exhibit A: Francesca (a.k.a Fat Nitty). Waits until you're asleep. Leaps on bed (emitting this odd, purring chirrup), walks on you or around you, licks you, lies down on you. Waits several minutes, leaps off bed (with same sound), runs off into night. Repeat several times throughout the night.
Exhibit B: Lily. Unable to leap due to advancing age, instead claws painfully up into bed, climbs up on chest, kneads painfully, lies down with face 2 inches from sleepers' nose, purring loudly. Will sleep on chest as long as person will tolerate. Awakes at 4am, meowing loudly for food. Continues meowing at regular 4-second intervals until fed.
Arrrrgh!!!
Mind you, they are very sweet, affectionate cats, otherwise.
Chief,
Good cats are splendid things, but they do have their idiosyncrasies.
Reminds me of Kiki #3 (a series) who had a predilection for licking hair. So in bed, she would nuzzle up to you and proceed to give you head a thorough licking, hairline, eyebrows-- then she'd get madly caught up in the hair itself.
A nuisance, but she was only trying to keep us clean. . .
We're now between cats, with old Natasha, whom the daughter adopted in college, finally going off to that great litter box in the sky.
Damn, I miss that little cat. She was initially nicknamed "Demon Spawn" (boy was she ornery), but she wormed her way right into our hearts.
The daughter moved back in with us briefly in '93 after college (couldn't get a job right away), but when she got a professional job and moved out, for reasons I'm still unclear on, we were left with Natasha and Bart (yeah, two college cats), and Bart turned out to be a diabetic. Which meant I learned how to give shots to a damned cat. So for some time, we had four cats and Rosie the collie.
They're all gone now. And I miss them all. The last one, Natasha, transitioned from showing fangs and hissing every time I came around, to be being my best bud, curling up close to me in my chair, and all night long. She in fact favored sleeping on top of me.
The daughter? Well, after dumping her two beasts on us, it didn't take long for her to pick up three more felines. Every time we visited, the two younger ones (both about 18 pounds) thought sleeping between my legs and walking all over me all night was really a neat thing to do. We're going out to California later this month and this is what I anticipate.
Cats are cool. Chief, you've got little kids, so animals are necessary to complete the whole circus deal. But you've also gotta get a big dawg. Preferably an 80-100 pounder with long hair so it can get all wet and muddy outside and then shake it off inside the house. And then you can wash it in the bath tub because it's too cold to hose it down outside. Unlike a cat, which would scratch your eyes for such an offense, the dog will love you for doing it.
And your life will be complete.
True except for the long-haired dog. Short hair is much preferable for all involved. Only once we had a long-haired collie, and that was miserable for all, I think.
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