Fuzzy arms around your throat

So, I’ve been trying to figure out what to blog about tonight and was drawing a blank. I was chatting with Kurt in Alaska. He’s still working that move to New Zealand angle from a couple of months ago. He’s always proposing ideas for how we can get there. They’re always a little bit insane. This particular one involved him selling his right kidney. Very specifically his right one. I have been charged with staying in the operating room to make sure they leave the left one the hell alone. He’s very, very specific about this.

While I was having this text conversation, My Honey was rummaging around in the fridge for a snack.

He came out with summer sausage which he shared with Winnie the Wonder Mutt and Jojo (and HE’s the one who’s always calling my perfect cat fat). When he went back to the kitchen, I heard the distinct sound of the spray of whipped cream.

Winnie was curious about what that was all about. So he fed some to the dog. Yep. She sat down in the floor, he opened her mouth and filled it up with whipped cream. She couldn’t decide what she thought of that. She looked a bit rabid, actually, with “foam” all over her mouth and her tongue working furiously. Finally a slow wag increased to a fast one. Winnie will wag over anything. She’s stupid like that.

So of course, that made Roscoe the Bloodhound wander over to find out what all the excitement was about. So My Honey made him sit down and have a snort of whipped cream. He enjoyed it considerably less.

Winnie took a second dose and then they both fled to sit with me on the couch and stare at their father warily.

He offered some to Jojo Kitty, but he was having none of that crap. I actually think Joe would have killed him if he tried to fill his mouth with whipped cream.

“The kitty was not amused” is what I’d put on his headstone.