Tiggerday

It’s Caturday, and today, I give you Festival of Tig.

Up first: A close-up of Tig on his kitty shelf next to my desk, playing with his long-tailed mousie.

Next: Don’t bother me, dude. I’m trying to sleep.

This is a frequent view from my shower. Tig jumps up on the vanity and paws at the door.

He does this a lot, too, but you can usually see his head when he stretches. Here, he just looks like a headless creature trying to attack a blogger in her shower. It’s a new horror movie monster! The Tiginator!

Phew. There’s his head. It’s not a monster after all.

Gracie says: Why does Tig get all the attention? (Don’t sweat it, Gracie, your picture day is tomorrow.)

Finally, my doofus the goofus, sleeping with that big fat tummy on display. (He’s waddling when he walks. Sigh. I have to stop feeding him so much. But it’s so hard to do.)