SUNSHINE SENT ME A VALENTINE!

I am THE HAPPIEST guy on the planet tonight! SUNSHINE sent me her photo and called me her "special valentine"! When da Mama showed me the envelope and opened it up, I rubbed my head all over Sunshine's photo. Mama has put it on the wall near my heated bed so's I can gaze upon the light of my life and rubs my head on her image and purr! I AM IN LUV! Happy Valentine's Day to everybody!

Sunshine is in my world!

"Oh Prankie thank you so much for the pretty pretty roses! My brother Tux said I could have you as my special furiend and he would not try to chase you off. Even 'the warden' & the ruffled canine gave me their blessing!"

Ever since Sunshine tagged me, I have been smitten with her. Just thinkin' about her makes my heart skip a beat and my head spin--I think it's called "swoonin"! She told me that before she'd agree to bein' courted, I had to get her brother Tux's blessing. I finally gathered my courage up and approached his elegant tuxedoed self.

Seems there was a family meeting, Ebby and Rinky are friends of my canine family members, and they gave their blessing as well. Whoo-hoo! I am the happiest guy in the world! She is bee-yoo-ti-ful and kind and smart and just---MY EVERYTHING!

I shall now make it my mission in life to be the best special furiend she could possibly imagine, and be worthy of her affections. I'm new to this courting, but I'll do my best. If anybody has any suggestions in this area, please feel free to post in my comments. Advice is welcome!

Sunshine tagged me--I thinks I's in LUV!

Five things I'm thankful for--

1. Sunshine taggin' me! She's a real cutie putootie! She reminds me in looks of Goldie, only I can tell
she's not bossy like Goldie.

2. I guess I's thankful for Goldie. She keeps me in line and on my game. While I'm at it, I's good wid
the puppy girls (jest don't tell 'em). They have entertainment value. And for Ginger who's my partner
in kitchen crime. I knocks it down, she tears it open and we party!

3. My health. Mama never misses my morning medicine, I has my own water fountain, and da Mama
found kibble I'll eat that's good for me. While I'm at it, let me put in a word for all the chicky's who
gave their lives so's their parts could be boiled and served to me once a week.

4. Oh yeah--my new heated bed. It's bliss!

5. Most of all, I'm thankful for MY MAMA. She heeds my every command, caters to my every whim,
and hasn't made a rug outta' me --even when yours truly has behaved in ways deserving of such a
fate.

I's a Happy Boy!

I loves the cool weather--THE DADDY FIRES UP THE FLOOR FURNACE! I have like, ya' know--one of those emotional attachment things to that hole in the floor. The human who thunk up this thing had to be a cat lover!

The Daddy fires it up for me. I know this, 'cause right after the ceremonial cleaning of the chamber and lighting of the pilot, I claims territorial rights to the grate space and all heat that comes up through it. Any heat that escapes warming my body is free to warm the rest of my family. I's generous in this way.

There's two major ways to goes about enjoyin' this modern marvel. First strategy: the "chillin' while grillin". I's havin'' the mama post a photo of me reclinin' in this modality. This is possible only when the heat is low. The metal grate heats up quite nicely, and it feels sensual to stretch out and feel the pattern along your body. Say good-bye to arthritis--I tell ya'--your joints just move to the groove.

Now, there is times when the furnace is roaring and churning out mega-heat. Grillin' is not recommended during these moments, unless you wants singed fur and grate pattern burns on your hide. When the floor furnace is way hot, I does what is known as "toastin'". With practice, the toastin' cat calculates the optimal space between him and the floor furnace for perfect, smooth, full-bodied warmth. Usually it is right in an area frequently walked by humans. Too bad--they want me to move they can turn the heat down and I'll grill.

Wars have been fought over floor furnace supremacy. I's won then all. I's the King of the Floor Furnace. Period. (Be sure to check out my grillin' stance photo.)

Halloween Tag--I's It!

Subject: Halloween tag, a repeat of the original Sent: Wed Oct 7
Message:
you have been tagged for Halloween~ I just name my five favorite things about Halloween and chose 6 friends to tag~~

1. Bats--winged meeses
2. Daddy will be home this year--no costume for me!
3. Playin' with the fake cob webs
4. Catchin' the spider that jumps across the floor
5. Sittin' in the window and watchin' the trick-or-treaters

now i tag~
1.)Aurikku
2.)Gordy
3.)Elvis
4.)Reuben
5.)Milo
6. )Jakester

So's I got busted. . .

I almost gotta' way with it. Da Mama had the chicky in da sink in little bags. When she put some in da freezer, I simply pilfered one and drug it off. How was I to know she'd count them? *sigh
Anyways--I made my point, and now there's chicky cookin' on the stove. I knows what I's havin' for supper!

I Been Thinkin' 'bout "Da Good Life". . .

Mama opened a fresh bag of kibble yesterday, so I's been packin' my gut and snoozin'. I mean; what else is there to do when it's been rainin' for a week and the thought of lookin' at over-energized puppies just makes ya' wanna' hurl? So, when I's not snoozin', I's been thinkin' 'bout what makes life good.

Firstly, there's the Daddy and the Mama. Yeah, they live to serve me, and I loves them for it. They only love on me when I wants and hows I wants. They knows jus' how to scratch dem fighter pads jest da right way, and pet me wid jest one finger. I even forgive da mama for brushin' my teeth. If I could change the scenario, I'd like da mama not to kiss on me so much. Itsa' sissy thang--if my buds in da 'hood found out--geesh, I'd a lose some respect, ya' know?

Secondly, there's chicky. Boiled, baked, braised, fried, broiled, nuked, sauteed, simmered, roasted, stir fried, fresh, canned, smoked, deli-sliced--anyways ya' cook it, I'll eat it. I LOVES CHICKY! If there was only one other kinda' animule left on earth, I'd hope it belonged to the nugget-guy, and he'd hand it outta' the drive thru to da' mama.

When da' doc says I gots IBD, mama cooked me chicken more often. I was hurlin' cat food. They tried to feed me "venison and green pea" cat chow. That's just wrong. On many levels. I says, "No. Hell No." Even the dog who eats everything wouldn't touch that crap. I ate wet cat slop outta' a can for awhile, but then I stopped likin' it. Now he says I gots kidney disease too. Don't care about no "extra protein" in my diet. If I gots to go, I wants to go gnawing on a huge boneless chicky boob dripping wid 'chickin' lickin' chicky juices!

Da Mama gots me some good tastin' chow that don't hurt my belly, and I gots pills for my kidneys. My last tests said I's a little improved. Da Mama still gives me chicky; jus' not as much. Mama boiled some chicky boobs tonight, I packed my belly, and life is good.

Thirdly, I likes to go strollin' around the outside of the house. I's not interested 'bout leavin' the yard--just wanna' check out the real estate every so often. Da Mama gets outta' her head hollerin' my name. Geesh--I knows where I is! I comes in when I wants. I try to get da Daddy to let me back in 'cause he won't hug and kiss and drip tears all over me. So what if's I only gots four teeth and I walks funny? I's still da lion-cat, and nobody gonna' mess wid me in my yard. If they tries, I jus' run under da deck and hide 'til my humans comes lookin' for me.

The Big Three for da moment. I's certain to think about more. Most likely I'll be formulating my opinion on the dogs that lives in dis house, and hows they fit into the Frankie Cosmos.

Catcha' later (take it any way you's wanna'--it's open to interpretation)!
Frankie da Cat

Life accoring to me.

Don't get me wrong: I love my Mom--even when she puts stupid clothes on me, or insists upon brushing my teeth. I have an irritible bowel and kidney disease. She makes sure that I eat the right things and take my medication. I love her because she's my angel who takes the very best care of me.

Then there's my Dad--he calls me Prank-Prank. My Dad is my mega-human. All he has to do it look at me and my world is complete. Ya know--it's this male thing--us guys gotta' stick together. He and I understand stuff that the rest of the females just can't fathom.

He's made sure that I have plenty of high hide spots. For some reason (temporary insanity), we have two female teen age puppies in the family. They annoy me no end, but they make the humans happy, so I put up with them, and refrain from shredding their faces. I;ve noticed that the mama is much more liberal with the nip and the salmon treats since they've arrived--and I have a nice luxuriously soft custom made snoozing pad that's just for me. I can put up with crap in exchange for creature comforts. I am shrewd, after all. Talk to you later!