This is the sort of thing that makes the other cats think Joe Bob isn’t friendly (even though he IS, really he is!)
Joe Bob, minding his own business on his scratcher. Corbie comes along, and he’s all “Sniff.”
Then Corbie’s like “Sniff. Sniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiff.”
After some thought, Corbie is then like “Sniff. Sniff. SNIFF! SNIFF!!!!!!!!”
Then Joe Bob is like “STOP SNIFFING ME ::HISSSSSSS!!!!::”
Then Corbie’s all “WELL.”
“I NEVER.”
“That kind of hurts my feelings.”
Wassuuuuuuuuuuup! Wednesday.
“Wassuuuuuuuuup!”
“Wassuuuuuuuuuu-”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!-”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!-
“-uuuuuuuuuuu-”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!-”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuu-”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…”
“-uuuuuuuuuuuuu…”
“-uuuuuuup!”
::thlurrrp::
Stinkerbelle has caught sight of her beloved Tommy, and has come down to stare at him.
Pretending he’s not there.
Gussying up in case he might want to kiss her later.
“Is he EVER going to notice me?”
(For the newer readers, Stinkerbelle is our partially feral cat who pretty much lives on top of the kitchen cabinets. She comes down to eat and drink and use the litter box. She’ll let us pet her a few times, but when she’s done being petted, she swipes at us with her razor-sharp Paw o’ Doom and flounces off. She has a passionate love for Tommy and has loved him since she was a few months old and came to us in a litter of semi-feral kittens. Fred thinks she’s the most beautiful cat ever because of her blue eyes and silky fur and it’s his fault we adopted her.)
Previously
2011: Polite interest and a bit of surprise, all “You want what? Babies? Don’t believe I’ve ever heard of those, sorry I can’t help you. BUH-bye!”
2010: No entry.
2009: Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.