Firstly, an announcement from the cat who is insisting we call him Monsieur Boogairs in the future, because “French peoples is cool, and also they don’t make a fuss over stinkin’ little kittens who are NOT THAT CUTE”:

Dear Peoples of the internet Readers:

I hates you, this is true. I hates you because you does never send me the tasty treats or the fuzzy toys or the warm and snuggly beds (except for The Nance and The Rick, who sent to me the snuggly bed and the warm bed that The Momma thinks is for her feets, and she is WRONG, and you are excused from the hatin’.).

I hates the rest of yous because you is always all “Oooh, look at the cute kitten! Look at how cute, the kitten! Look how sweet and cute the kitten! You should keep the kitten!” NO WE SHOULD NOT KEEPS THE KITTEN! The stinkin’ kitten is not so cute! Especially when the stinkin’ kitten jabs you in the nostrils with her sharp little claws and you spends an hour sneezing while The Momma and The Daddy laugh at your sneezin’ face!

I hates you because you is all “Oh, the kitten! The kitten! Blah the kitten!” and you is never “The Booger! What a fine and magnificent, powerful creature is The Booger! The Booger is the most beautiful animal in the world!” Maybe you thinks The Booger knows this, which The Booger DOES, but despite his resemblance to a God, The Booger is only feline. The Booger needs to hear it sometimes!

So stop asking why, you stinkin’ peoples. I hates you and you and YOU.


Monsieur Boogair.


All is well in Maddy-ville. She’s getting feistier and more playful by the day. She can go up and down stairs (though that last step down makes her a little leery, since she’s going from carpeted step to wooden floor) and can climb up onto the couch. The big cats are starting to play with her, and since everywhere she goes, she goes at a run, Mister Boogers likes to chase her around like she’s a toy. Or prey, one or the other.

Bitey McBiterson strikes again.

Appalled at your behavior.

Maddy in the sun.

Pretty girl.

Ain’t misbehavin’.


2005: Look guilty, don’t they?

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