Journal – At the breakfast table this morning, Lester looked up from one of Horgan’s iPads, bacon still dangling from his jaws, and announced “Long live Acoustic Kitty!”
I pawed through kibble to scan my newspaper’s headings, looking for what might have inspired his outburst. (Touch screens DON’T WORK with fluffy paws. There. I admitted it.)
Finally, I gave up. “I can’t find it in the paper. What are you talking about?”
He swirled his ears at me. “It’s not in the paper. Check out this.”
Because Horgan wasn’t home, I climbed all the way up on the table to look. (See previous post about etiquette and cat butts on placemats.)
“We’re not the first spy cats!” I said.
“But we are the first to cross the street alive,” he said smugly.
My fluffy–er, formidable–paw met his smooth one in a high five.
Go spy kitties, go.