Oh, hello! Winston, here. It looks like I'm giving the update today, so let's get right to it.
- Suzanne is still working on the sweater that she's named Fluffy Angora Menace, but which I call Delicious Chew Fleece. She has the body done. I wait and hope for her to leave it within reach, but no luck yet. She keeps it up on the bar when she's not holding it. Buddy says that I could probably make it up there if I jumped perfectly onto the barstool, but I'm trying not to take too much advice from him. I'm not sure he means well.
- The other, more colorful yarn from a couple of posts ago, which she calls Interlacements Santa Barbara and I call Nubby Chew Ball, is going to be some type of pullover. Last night during TV time, she kept saying, "This yarn is going to be almost impossible to work with. I can't even wind it." Then she yelled, "Son of a BITCH!" I thought that meant that she was calling to me, so I tried to help her by hauling some of the yarn away from her in my mouth. Guess that wasn't the right call.
- I'm almost certain that Buddy hates me. I keep trying to play with him, but he hisses and punches me in the face with his paws. Loud punches. Suzanne says that she can hear them from across the room. Yesterday evening, he scratched my nose and drew blood, and just when the cut under my eye had finally healed, too. I tell you, I think he baits me into getting too close to him so that he can attack me.
No, no. Not true at all. I'm merely trying to train the blunderbuss. What do we do when the cat runs past us in an enticing manner? We lay on the ground as though we were poisoned by curare. Note to self: find reliable source for curare. - Buddy the Cat
- We all went outside yesterday, and...
Not all of us went outside, you insensitive beast. Some of us stared out from the other side of a glass door. Some of us wept behind our transparent prison walls - BtC
...and we played on the terraces. It was fantastic! I learned that I can get down to the terraced part of the yard and the culvert by squeezing through the patio railing. Peter climbed down after me, and he said, "Son of a bitch!", and again, I figured he was calling to me. He looked peeved. I decided to perk him up by pretending to listen, and then running right past him. I did this several times, until I finally got tired and climbed back up onto the deck. They say that today I might get to play with the neighborhood dogs, something about wearing me the Hell out so that they can watch television in peace. At any rate, hooray! Other dogs! I love to play. I know that I always look relaxed and easygoing in my pictures, but I'm actually very active. The only time they can get a camera in front of me is when I'm nearly asleep.
I guess that's about it for today. Thanks for letting me give the update.
Winston J. 'Bug' Schmidt