Dear Clare,

Thank you for the homemade cat mats. I know I'm supposed to give them to the foster cats-and I will, but I had to “test drive” one on my cats first.

Dear Clare,

What did you put in the cat mat? Spencer's sense of smell is poor. Normally he isn't interested in catnip. Is there something you want to tell me? Spencer is bunny-kicking the shit out of this mat. His eyes are glazed over. What is going on?

Dear Clare,

My cats won't share. They want their own mat. If they don't get one, they'll spat.

Dear Clare,

There is more square feet of cat, than there is square foot of cat mat. Can you make me a bedspread sized one?

Dear Clare,

Do you know if there's a catnip rehab facility in Connecticut? I'm thinking Bob might need to go there. He looks like he's had a bit too much and Nicky can't stop rolling around and yeowling incoherently. I'm afraid the neighbors are going to call the cops.

Dear Clare,

Nora would like to know if you can rub her belly to maximize her user experience (since she can no longer reach her own belly).

Dear Clare,

Nicky also asked if you could rub something, but I had to edit out what he said. I blame the drugs for his ungentlemanly outburst...plus, he had a surgery a few years ago and that sort of limited his options in that department, anyway.

Dear Clare & All My Dear CiCH Readers,

It's friends like you that are like a big mat of catnip for me. I can wrap myself up in your comforting words and breathe deep, feeling suddenly quite invigorated and alive when only moments before I was too busy licking my wounds to do much else.

With Love,

Robin

Nick and Nora spooning the night away in their cat bed. To the right is an EMPTY cat bed. Go figure.

I've decided I want someone to build me a "safe room" in my house. You know, those rooms you hide in that even some crazed assassin with a battering ram can't enter if you happen to be the victim of a home invasion.

I'm not particularly fearful of someone breaking into my house while I'm here. I just want a place to EAT MY LEFTOVER MEATLOAF SANDWICH IN PEACE!!!

DAMN CATS!

Okay so maybe they're not cute little kittens just learning the ropes and they weren't rescued from a tragic situation and they haven't, thankfully, had to face anything worse than being kicked (accidently, of course) off the bed at night (for HOGGING THE BED), but heck, aren't they CUUUUUTE? Don't you just LOVE THEM? Look at Nora's rear leg, draped oh so elegantly over her brother's big ass. It's endearing, is it not?

Nick and Nora believe in sharing. Either that or they're both stubborn and won't let the other have the entire chair to themselves.

Isn't it amazing to see how they can cram 46.25 pounds of cat into a small, vintage chair from the 1940's-made during the days when people's butts did not suffer from too-much-time-on-the-computer-spread. This also means that I can't fit my ass into it, which is why it's become a giant cat bed.

So there.