My dad said that in the Army, your bed had to be made so tightly that the sarge could bounce a quarter off it. We sometimes fail to meet these military criteria in the CrazyStable. Okay, True Confessions: Some days, the master bedroom never gets made up.
Who could disturb this poignant tableau of Conjoined Cats merely to straighten the bedlinens?
At the slightest sound, young Master Charlie elongates himself, revealing his downy belly-seam and fully posable limbs.
Uncle Cocobop, for whom sleep is a far more serious pursuit, is not amused. How inconsiderate to force a fellow to open both eyes at once!
Sorry, big guy!
Uh, did we mention that the 17-pound longhair is conducting a Spa Day inches away on the Master's pillow? (This has absolutely nothing to do with the Master's asthma.)
With a face like that, Lexi is used to getting away with stuff.
OFFICIAL NOTICE FROM BLOG MANAGEMENT: This concludes the very last cat-blogging on this alleged home-renovation blog, at least until somebody says "awww" and asks for more. Which, incredibly, some of you have, so you have only yourselves to blame.