Things are...weird here. I'm kind of in a funky place right now as I try to move on from Brisket, figure out my spirituality, finishing my thesis (KILL ME), fighting with the financial aid office (KILL ME AGAIN), and overcoming my dental phobia to get some much needed work done.
I mean, I'm fine and everything. More than fine, actually, it's just nothing particularly blog worthy so I thought I would entertain you with some pictures of the cats. I've been getting an itchy trigger finger lately, after a long winter photography hiatus. Hopefully in a few days I will have something a bit more substantial to show you, but in the meantime, it's Krazy Kat Lady Photos!
It occurs to me that many of you have not met Gary's cats, Kayla and Galahad. Here they are:
This is Kayla. She's a pretty pretty princess.
This is Galahad. He's a cat that looks like Hitler.
And, of course, Dill. You guys remember Dill:
But do you remember him like THIS:
Look. At. How. FAT. I know. This fattiness is in direct result of living with Kayla and Galahad, because he eats their food too. See, prior to living with Kayla and Galahad, I was able to control Dill's food. He'd get 1/4 cup of kibble in the morning (which he'd scarf down) and a 1/4 cup of kibble in the evening (also horked down). Dill couldn't handle having a constant supply of kibble. He'd just gorge himself all the livelong day. I think this because of Dill being a rescue kitty and from living on the streets and not knowing where his next meal would come from. But now with Kayla and Galahad (who were raised by hand by Gary and thus used to constant attention and regular meals), we have food in the bowl all the time. So Dill plunks himself in front of it and EATS. It's gotten so bad that we now try to limit how much food is given (1 scoop in the morning, slightly smaller scoop in the evening) just so Dill won't turn into the subject of this painting.
(Which Stephanie says he already is, but never mind that.)
Since limiting their food intake in this way, the dinner scenes have turned into this:
CARNAGE. Also, uh, our floor isn't really that dirty. It's a trick of the camera. Only maybe it is that dirty? Because Galahad is odd and loves water so he splashes it up and out of the bowl and it catches crumbs of food and makes an orange-y paste and then he ROLLS in it, adding fur to the mix?
These cats, I tell you. They're fucking weird.
A totem pole of kitties! Plus a gnome. And some nekkid ladies.
Gary will be pissed at this photo, because he doesn't like cats on table surfaces. I don't mind them chilling on end tables or coffee tables, I just have issues with the kitchen table and counter. Meanwhile, both of Gary's cats regularly get caught on the kitchen table and Gary is more than OK with Galahad being on the kitchen counter to get water from the sink (which, he says, is the only solution to Galahad's water fetish). Now you tell me which one of us has it skewed. Then again, Dill is a little piss pot, so who am I to talk?
One last photo of Dill, to showcase his chubby cheeks:
I might as well apply for spinster status now.
I mean, I'm fine and everything. More than fine, actually, it's just nothing particularly blog worthy so I thought I would entertain you with some pictures of the cats. I've been getting an itchy trigger finger lately, after a long winter photography hiatus. Hopefully in a few days I will have something a bit more substantial to show you, but in the meantime, it's Krazy Kat Lady Photos!
It occurs to me that many of you have not met Gary's cats, Kayla and Galahad. Here they are:
This is Kayla. She's a pretty pretty princess.
This is Galahad. He's a cat that looks like Hitler.
And, of course, Dill. You guys remember Dill:
But do you remember him like THIS:
Look. At. How. FAT. I know. This fattiness is in direct result of living with Kayla and Galahad, because he eats their food too. See, prior to living with Kayla and Galahad, I was able to control Dill's food. He'd get 1/4 cup of kibble in the morning (which he'd scarf down) and a 1/4 cup of kibble in the evening (also horked down). Dill couldn't handle having a constant supply of kibble. He'd just gorge himself all the livelong day. I think this because of Dill being a rescue kitty and from living on the streets and not knowing where his next meal would come from. But now with Kayla and Galahad (who were raised by hand by Gary and thus used to constant attention and regular meals), we have food in the bowl all the time. So Dill plunks himself in front of it and EATS. It's gotten so bad that we now try to limit how much food is given (1 scoop in the morning, slightly smaller scoop in the evening) just so Dill won't turn into the subject of this painting.
(Which Stephanie says he already is, but never mind that.)
Since limiting their food intake in this way, the dinner scenes have turned into this:
CARNAGE. Also, uh, our floor isn't really that dirty. It's a trick of the camera. Only maybe it is that dirty? Because Galahad is odd and loves water so he splashes it up and out of the bowl and it catches crumbs of food and makes an orange-y paste and then he ROLLS in it, adding fur to the mix?
These cats, I tell you. They're fucking weird.
A totem pole of kitties! Plus a gnome. And some nekkid ladies.
Gary will be pissed at this photo, because he doesn't like cats on table surfaces. I don't mind them chilling on end tables or coffee tables, I just have issues with the kitchen table and counter. Meanwhile, both of Gary's cats regularly get caught on the kitchen table and Gary is more than OK with Galahad being on the kitchen counter to get water from the sink (which, he says, is the only solution to Galahad's water fetish). Now you tell me which one of us has it skewed. Then again, Dill is a little piss pot, so who am I to talk?
One last photo of Dill, to showcase his chubby cheeks:
I might as well apply for spinster status now.
Labels: Cat Tales, Photography
