Simon's Cats, and Louise

I dunno, you're probably expecting more from me after two weeks of vacation and two weeks of recovery from vacation. I'm expecting more from me. I have things to blog.

But right now, here's this, Simon's Cat in TV Dinner:

If you haven't seen the glorious first two, you're missing out:

Simon's Cat in Cat Man Do

Simon's Cat in Let Me In

I love these.

In cat news, R.I.P. Louise, our 21-year-old cat who died while we were in Europe. Weezer, you never hit anyone with a baseball bat, broke a glass door or shredded a couch ... a least not in the time I knew you ... and you were the fuzziest of medium-haired kitties with the whitest and softest belly fur. It's weird to have a dinner party that you don't interrupt with your meows that made people think you were a very angry, very young baby. It's weird not to have to try to tempt you with tuna in the mornings. It's weird not to curl up with you at night, or worry that you'd fall off the bed and hurt your old bones, or listen for the infamous hacking-up-a-furball cat sound. It's weird not to have to put ice cubes in your water when the temperature climbs to 90+ outside. I miss ya, kitters!

Thankfully, I have Simon's Cats to keep me entertained between pets.