Mr. Purr

This is Tiger, whom we affectionately call "Mr. Purr." Tiger's Eye took this pic and I think it's faboo. Tiger doesn't really look that mean, although this morning I am convinced that he is demon spawn. It's 6:30 a.m. I went to bed at 3:00 a.m., and I've been up for a good 45 minutes. You see, Mr. Purr is hungry. That means a good deal of head butting, walking around on my chest and this neat little trick he does with his paw. He taps you oh-so-gently on the face, but if that fails to get you out of dreamland, he extends his claws ever so slightly. This morning, he chose my throat. It felt like someone rubbing a Brillo pad on my neck. Mr. Purr got his way, obviously, because here I am.

I made a couple of changes to Red Watzana early this morning, you know, the ones I thought of just after I sent the manuscript to DAW. I have to finish Ice Queen. Have to, have to, have to.

Oh, oh, oh. This is the funniest quote I've seen in a long time. This comes from a letter actually dictated this way. He's a general surgeon and he's just a wonderful breath of fresh air. He's never been a stuffy dictator, but this is an example of his fine work:

"He and I used to be neighbors on the side of Watch Hill. We were the first to spot any Indian attacks or buffalo herds coming off the American plains."

He's the one who called the ASTC tank and left a message about the surgical center being on fire and to send 20 "fire fighterettes," preferably minimally clothed, to the surgical center to
extinguish the flames. I wish I had transcribed that instead of listening with tears rolling down my face. Next time, I'll type it up and cc him a copy.

KitKat and Man Cub start school Friday. Tiger's Eye, who is entering the 9th grade, is spared that tragedy until Monday. I don't want them to go back. I asked Mr. Sapphire if we could hire a governess, and he suggested winning the lottery. Oh, well. It's just so nice having them around. Tiger's eye, however, is starting Spanish. This should be fun. I intend on using my limited Spanish vocab and nothing else in his presence. I already have them recognizing "donde esta el telefono?"

I need therapy. Wait, I'm IN therapy. That's kind of like that little voice in my head that says, "Can we go home, now?" and then my cubs remind me that I *am* home, and that would be a problem, wouldn't it?