He got the scratchies from me. 🐱
Taken on the road from the Hill of Doon to Oughterard.
Neighborhood cat scratches are best cat scratches.
Poor Cookie. :(
Never mind her surgery two weeks ago.
The struggle is real.
“No Cookie! Feet are friends, not food! Feet are not for teeth!”
I have no idea how Cookie found it comfortable underneath my laptop, let alone for six hours, but six hours she stayed.
Cookie never stops stalking. Not once, not ever, not even for a second.
She quickly decided she was through with my shit.
You can’t fake this level of luxury.
I’m a Cookie cot.
I don’t know why I feel so judged, but I do.
Photograph by Eadaoin.
I’m now a pedestal, a platform for her attacks on Eadaoin’s ferns.
Cats, cats, cats.
Killer was put to sleep today after several months of illness. I wasn’t there, but I was told she had a can of tuna before the end. Godspeed you magnificent asshole.
We spotted this adorable and friendly tortie in Churchtown.
She’s even sweeter (and noisier) than Lenny.