Many years ago my wife and I learned that being in bed together was a bad deal. She gets under the covers to sleep, never moves them, and when she gets up you'd never know she was in the bed. I go G.I. and wrap the warmth around me and kick up everything to go like a freezing mummy while curled up. Yup, I used to get yelled at for "hogging the covers". Jeez, no wonder we had only one child. On days off years ago I was up by 5 a.m. to make pancakes and sausage and scrambled eggs and French toast. She would only moan to lay in until late morning and pray that somebody would break in and shoot me. Early for her is 11a.m. on a Saturday or Sunday. Early for me are the lost hours prior to 7a.m. I love to cook breakfast at 4:30a.m.

Fast forward more than three decades. As a matter of fact, land it on this morning - the wife is going away on a cruise for several days for some vacation with friends and relatives. She makes up her bed and tells me stay out of it - she doesn't want me to screw it up for the cats.

I took these pix this evening after the Board Meeting. Our son is here now so the cats must adapt and maybe find alternate places to sleep overnight. They thought they had the downstairs saloon all to themselves. Who makes a good place for them to sleep? It's the wife. She made up her bed this morning and explained that the cats are to have full access to it and that nobody had better mess it up.

Trouble and Shiloh are A-OK on the bride's bed.


Trouble and Shiloh are littermates and have been together since the moment they were born. He's a big tomcat and she's the tiny girl runt but they are inseparable.


Mister Mittens might move around tonight to check on her kittens but she started the overnight sleep in the living room.

OK, I've gone cat crazy since my son John befriended Mister Mittens last fall and she came into the house to be petted and fed. She was so young and so gentle as a female feral feline. She was only barely a kitten herself but would come up my driveway and peek into the downstairs saloon. My son John was always good for a can of Bumblebee tuna and a place to nap. How she ever survived last winter's blizzards we will never know.

And with Dr. Wallach Mister Mittens is the kindest patient you have ever seen. She seems to just sense that there are "humans" that can do something good for her. Dr. Wallach is as old as me and has been in practice in Uniondale, NY since 1978. He has an animal hospital on Hempstead Turnpike and is on call 24/7. He does complex animal surgery and is the doc that is going to spay Mister Mittens and Shiloh down the line. He's also going to steal Trouble's BBs. He has told me that Mister Mittens' disposition as a young mother made pregnant on the streets and taken in is almost beyond belief. Her youth and the kindness extended to her have made a big deal about turning her into house cat from a "wild whore street cat". My son John did that.

I just love these photos.

How can you not fall in love?

Cats are great!

After I served dinner this evening the big lug Trouble came upstairs to see me. I petted him and rubbed his head. He licked my hand and then swatted my hand hard (claws in) before racing off like a cop was chasing him.

What's not to love?