Recently, Ivy the Monkey Goddess got a very cute new haircut. She waiting several months to get her cute new haircut because she wanted to grow it out enough to be able to donate it.
This is what hair looks like just before it is donated.
And this is what Ivy looks like with her cute new haircut.
The reason I don't make my bed.
Cricket, seen here attempting to chew on a camera strap, which makes taking pictures of her awkward, had another big adventure. Since the first big adventure, wherein she looked outside, she has actually gone outside a few times. By outside, I mean a few feet outside the front door of my third floor condo, which looks out onto a self-contained landing that faces an inner courtyard. So, really, nowhere to get lost.
The other day, it happened again. I didn't realize she was outside, and I locked the door. Within seconds, I heard a desparate yowling. I rushed back to the door, opened it, and a white/black/orange streak of kitty panic skittered past me and into the condo. Whew!!
The funny thing is, though, that she survived. She went through this harrowing experience, and lived to tell the tale. And what's even funnier is that she totally changed right after she came inside. All of a sudden she had the air of A Cat That Has Lived, A Cat That Has Seen Much And Could Tell You Some Stories, A Cat Wise Beyond Her Years. So for the last few days she has strutted around the place with a certain air of detached wisdom and has positioned herself regally all over her dominion, omnipotently surveying all about her.
I won't mention that she hasn't really gone outside but has limited herself to brief peeks to make sure all is well, and then quick trots back in to file her little reports. But I guess now that She Has Seen It All and Now That She Has Lived Life To The Fullest, she doesn't really need to go outside much. Been there, done that.
Ivy the Monkey Goddess strikes again, with the BEST. MUG. EVER.
I have two cats. They're scaredy-cats. No reason, they just are. To wit: my calico kitty's big adventure consisted, in January of this year, of stepping outside my front door for about 5 seconds. If you check out the linky, you will realize this achievement is even less impressive than it might at first appear. She is cute, however, so who cares.
As I mentioned in the linky post, when it's not cold, I leave the front door open. I like the breeze. Since January, Cricket has been peeking outside, and every now and again, stepping 6 inches outside the front door and then sprinting full tilt back inside at any sign of movement (including, but not limited to, leaves falling out of the bamboo in the courtyard).
Meanwhile, Maliboo Kitty, the big bad feral cat, hides in the cat fur depository closet while the door remains open.
Today, we had a collective moment of courage. The photo is not brilliant, it's a cell phone photo, but I think you can tell that the girls are lined up looking outside: the blob by the door is Cricket, and the blob in the foreground to the right of the frame is Maliboo Kitty, who peers out from behind a bookcase and a corner, JUST IN CASE.
Baby steps.
Could you die of the cuteness?
Coy - some get it.
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