|Purred: Wed Nov 18, '09 4:50am PST |
|Reanan, when you go to your Grandma's, do you go over the hills and through the woods? My Mommi and Ro go over the hills, to Republic, Mo. Here in Springfield we are on a plateau, and one must go out a few miles to be in the hills. This year we may stay home, as they may or may not celebrate, but sometimes have homemade pizza instead of turkey. Besides, Grandpa, who decided here awhile back that he wants to be called "The Wilf" (short for Wilfred, about as German a name as you can get), may want to talk about mathematics, and Mommi just spent an hour on the phone with him studying mathematics (yes, by phone). He and Mommi got the problem wrong, and Auntie Ro came up with the answer on the first try.. On the other hand, purrhaps we had better go, as time is moving along and they are up in years (Granpa is 81!).
Now, about this poem thing. I heard through the catnip patch that a splendiferous beautimous poem was written in Opie's honor, and I say one should be written for ME, as you never know what may happen next in life. I may jump off the day bed and break my knee.
Also, this morning I tossed two pre-hairball tossings, and Mommi ran over with a newspaper to put it under me, and, try as I might to avoid that newspaper (:^, and place said tossing one the NEWLY SHAMPOOED RUG, Mommi followed my face around and got it. So, I ran off a few steps away, and she got me again.
Oh well, I'll get my chance. Oh, anyways, Mommi got all worried and said, "Oh my, Joe are you sick?" I should've tried limping and then I would get a treat, something I learned from Opie Thunderbear while he was on Earth. *hmph*
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