When the flaming-orange tom was brought to the local animal shelter, he was messy. And he stank. That darn cat never took his eyes off me. They were not quite green and not quite yellow; they were round, and alert, and reflected light like precious stones set in orange gold. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I told him. E-Book and Paperback available from Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/Inge-H.-Borg/e/B006QYQKUS -- Also check other writings at: http://devilwinds.blogspot.com/
Cute pic, and a great thing to celebrate!
ReplyDeleteThanks for joining the celebration, Tyrean, as long as we keep standing!
DeleteHa ha ha! So cute. :-D
ReplyDeleteyah, Kirsten, but you don't want to you see my bruises from the other times. Thanks for stopping by.
DeleteHee! Glad you haven't fallen over!
ReplyDeleteIf I do, Vik, I want it to be because of a glass of bubbly! Thanks for stopping by frequently; not sure I am doing this thing right--so, if I can do better, just let me know.
DeleteInge (and, of course, Pasha and the rug-rat Lilliput)
Oh, my! That IS a rug rat! What a charming photo - and what a booby-trap!
ReplyDeleteHi, Diana,
DeleteIndeed. I have stopped sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight cookie without turning the light on.
Too cute, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDelete