Received bad report card. Couldn’t care less.

Okay, but five seconds before I took this pic, Mackers was stretched out in this sun spot and scuppers came over and just sat on his head.

Scuppers, looking pretty sophisticated (for a ruffian)

Guest appearance: great blue heron down at Lake Washington.

Fuzzbros in action.

Workmen next door are up high up on the roof trusses. They need to be carefully watched! (Also, if they fall, they might get eaten)

He likes a big, vigorous scratch down in the evenings, stem to stern. Takes about fifteen minutes. But then he goes a little insane.

Hi. I was off it most of the day so would not have noticed. Hope your service is fully back!

Mackers, giving me his crazy dangerous cat face.

Mackers is the smart one! But his brother is still THE HOUSE CAT. Question of having that certain imperious attitude, I think.

There’s thunder, wind, and hail. So we all know where Mackers will be: in his bomb shelter wishing he’d been born a box turtle.

This project next door seems to go on and on. But it is good for the cats as they have gotten used to hearing and seeing new things, and sometimes feeling big thuds and vibrations.

Hello, hello, hello!

So true! Also, these two were covid kittens. They spent their formative year seeing only the same three humans doing the same things over and over. They develop and then cling to little routines in their interactions with us. Getting used to other people is a challenge.

Lots of nose kisses.

It is hard to relax when those workmen next door are chattering. The sound of their voices, even through a closed window, is more nerve wracking than all of their hammers and saws.

Put their fuzzy heads together to brainstorm. So far, goose eggs.

I used to clip their claws every couple of weeks, just to keep them used to it. So only a little bit each time. Been doing it less frequently for a while and I can tell they’re less comfortable with it. So, back to the old routine.

Awoken from slumber, claws clipped, dosed with catnip, trying to find the groove again.

Saturday morning lap nap.

Soaking up some rays while waiting for dinner.

Mackers in a sunny window

Waiting for the sun

Mackers does not accept any opposition when it’s his lap time. Including other cats.

In the relentless warfare between lap cats and laptops, Mackers’ nom de guerre is “He Who Counts Many Coups”

Yin and yang sandards are high. I expect better from them!

State of play, Saturday a.m.

Never heard that idiom before. It’s a good one.

Wow!

Imitating sculpture of a cat