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dailycaturday.bsky.social
Things are grim. I don’t even like opening my paper subscription (still have one) these days. I thought of a thing to do for a nice hit of dopamine: post a picture of my cats once a day, for the next 4ish years.
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Action shot of Angie saying “Happy Mother’s Day” to those who celebrate it on the second Sunday of May.

When you have a bad case of static. #caturday

Nick: “Look at us! We are twins, conjoined at the butt!” Ashley: “Yeah, I told you they could never fall for this, they have brains”.

Ashley is coming to term with the fact that there isn’t going to be a pope Pizzaballa.

Nick has an existential crisis.

Nick being cute.

After a lot of swearing, and the cat supervising, we have a new cat tree, that Angie has called dibs on already.

The face of a cat who knows she owns you for the next hour. And she’s right. Ashley’s purrs are irresistible.

Nick vs. The bathroom sink faucet.

Nick and I are having a disagreement over laundry. I think it should go down the laundry chute. Nick has decided that the laundry hamper is for him to sit in the glorious smell of dirty clothes, and he has yet to budge on it. Sigh.

Defiance.

Ashley and the boy doing their version of “I hate Mondays”.

Nick says the number is just a coincidence. Promise.

When Angie senses a change in the Force #Caturday

Sometimes Nick just wants to lay where it smells like dad butt. Before Angie calls dibs on it.

TBT to when Ashley (l) and Angie (r) were tiny kitties with huge ears and eyes. ❤️

Exhausted.

Nick isn’t happy about the jackhammer in the basement, so he’s surrounding himself with dad shirts.

Bonus not my cat. Our yard had a visitor. Hard to see: the hummingbird he was probably following around.

Ashley is tired from moonlighting as the Easter Bunny.

Nick tried to join the long, proud tradition of being a monorail cat, but something went wrong. #Caturday

When you have conflicting interests clashing.

Sink cat.

Sometimes Nick needs to feel like the king of the world.

Ashley in her lazy mode.

I spotted a wood bug crawling up the stairs. Being that I hate the things, I told Nick: “Aaahhh, kill it! Kill it!!!” This was his response. Me: “Dammit, this is the one thing you should possibly not find confusing!!!”

Missing my boxcat.

Ms. Ashley when lunch is 5 minutes late.

Her highness demands only the softest of comforters.

Awww, baby! ❤️

This is Nick either morally supporting Ashley over the vomit session she had overnight, or going “If you’re gonna be low energy, I’m just gonna help myself to a pillow surface”.

Nick giving 110% towards being a cat loaf.

Ashley: “Oh you know, recharging my solar panels, plotting to take over the world…” Her answer to “Whacha doin pretty girl?”

Nick: “They are making noise in the basement and I don’t. Like. It.” Someone cried like a baby kitten this morning.

Grainy and cropped to protect for privacy: not my cat went to the Hands Off rally. Kitten must he a founding member of Cats Against Trump.

Angie is very intense sometimes.

Nick is following the bird market right now. Stock market is too volatile. #DailyCaturday #Dad-jokes

We have a stereo receiver that centralizes the TV’s sound system. Gracie loved to sit on that thing, because it would get super warm. Sometimes she would slowly roll around. I started calling it “rotisserieing” as in “Oh, look, Gracie is rotisserie-ing herself again”.

The cats are having an emergency council meeting to discuss the strange noises coming from outside the bathroom window. Ashley says “It’s the birbs’ fault, I just know it!”. She’s not wrong.

Not our cat. Icelandic Cat petted last summer. I’ve said it before, we’re the sort of weirdos who routinely halt vacation excursions just to pet a friendly cat. As one should.