(no subject)
So I post a running picture, I even steal pictures from BBC and Google. But the ultimate post was on demand all the time. Show us the kitties, you cry! Actually, it has been said that no one with a digital camera should be let near their pets, flowers, or sunsets. Umm. Well, since I've already broken that rule, I don't think it's one that we should allow to constrain us. I will, however, promise only to post moderately OK pictures of my cats. And not an overabundance of them. But I do have many cats.
So, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll start by posting a couple of pictures of my kitties from this spring, and then when my parents come back with their digital camera on which I have taken many new shots, as well as the technology to upload shots from my own camera, I will update again, possibly with a feature every so often on each cat. Because that'll give me something to talk about, and I have many stories about them which I can put under cuts as they occur to me.
I give you...
Mr. Love!
Mr. Ben!
Nicholas... OK, I lied, I have several of him, so consider this the first feature. He runs, he leaps, he sleeps. He fears, he is brave, he soliloquys. He thinks. He experiences bliss and horror and discomfort and every so often happiness. He would be content to live in a nutshell - in fact, he has made closets and vanities his homes. You can't hear him purring but you can feel it if you touch his throat.
So, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll start by posting a couple of pictures of my kitties from this spring, and then when my parents come back with their digital camera on which I have taken many new shots, as well as the technology to upload shots from my own camera, I will update again, possibly with a feature every so often on each cat. Because that'll give me something to talk about, and I have many stories about them which I can put under cuts as they occur to me.
I give you...
Mr. Love!
Mr. Ben!
Nicholas... OK, I lied, I have several of him, so consider this the first feature. He runs, he leaps, he sleeps. He fears, he is brave, he soliloquys. He thinks. He experiences bliss and horror and discomfort and every so often happiness. He would be content to live in a nutshell - in fact, he has made closets and vanities his homes. You can't hear him purring but you can feel it if you touch his throat.