This morning Mr. Dumbbutt was running around outside in the 30 degree weather. Obviously, he was more than willing when I offered to let him inside. Then I went one step further and offered him some of my roasted chicken. Let me state for the record that I’m not sure at this moment any living creature (Jesus not included) loves me more than Tyler Kitty. A warm apartment, a snuggly mousey and a few bites of roasted chicken are the ticket to make a happy cat.
And for those of you who are wondering, his real mama is beginning to question whether or not she Kity Kitty might actually be a he Tyler. I’ll spare you anything graphic, but there is some physical evidence that I pointed out to her and she said something along the lines of, “Ohhhhh…yeah. That might be what those are.”