mister, can we have our blog back?
Tuesday 22 August 2006 | I like a cookie
So…it’s nearly 2:30 in the morning and it’s all over but the screaming (and the fearsome tangle of garbled ellipses, em-dashes and diacritical marks). For those who are inquisitive about the process of changing web hosts, I refer them to international human rights legislation as set forth by the Geneva Convention. In other words, it’s not quite as much fun as a sharp stick in the eye. In case we haven’t been abundantly clear: Don’t do it. Ever. If you break the chain you will have seven years of bad luck. Edna Snodhockey of Woonsocket broke the chain and she tripped over a lawn chair and died.
But since we are back up and limping along, some pictures to reward the patient. Qu’est-ce qui passe, là-bas?
Just a mass of undifferentiated kitten fur, right?—but allow us to assist:
Still can’t quite believe your eyes? Here’s the close-up:
It is, as my godsister would say, just cute as shit.
In the interest of intra-species harmony, Ms. Mama Cat and her nursing mousie coexisted peacefully for about two weeks. Then one morning, Mousie had vanished without a trace. Perhaps he’d grown tired of being a kitten, and wandered off restlessly; or perhaps (and, sadly, more likely) he made some hesitant rodent-like gesture, some furtive yet revealing I’m-not-a-kitten movement, and Mama’s lazy hospitality was overpowered by centuries-old predatory instincts.
Thus ends our fuzzy, sickeningly adorable mammalian tale, red in tooth and claw.
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