OUR HOUSE

Animals have incredible instincts, and so it should have been no surprise to me that my feline friends chose to stay inside this past Sunday.  As most know, there was an impending storm.  The day was a wee bit blustery, but my "Top Cat," Mr. Gibbs loves to be outside and let the breeze blow against his furry self.  Not so on Sunday.  It turned into a battle of wills between him and me.  I have a favorite "spot" on the couch, and generally "Gibbies aka Gibbers" sits on the other end.  He even has a fleece blanket he likes to snuggle on. Not so on Sunday. 

I was trying to be productive, my main chore was laundry.  Generally, when I do laundry, Gibbs follows me. Not so on Sunday.  Each time I would return to sit in my "spot" the space was already taken.  I shooed the young man out a few times, and then finally conceded and simply sat on the next cushion over.  That worked for a while and then this happened:

Bless you Hank cat, you little stinker.

Gibbers was a single child for a year, and then through an unfortunate circumstance, Hank came for a visit and has been with us since.  Sometimes I find the boys preening each other, but mostly they try to vie for the position of KING.  I try to tell Hank he is heir to the throne.  He's a bit like another royal who likes to get attention (we won't mention who, but let's just say Hank won't be going to Vegas anytime soon).  Here's  picture of the boys playing:

xoxo

xoxo