THE 'SKINNY' ON A MOMMY FAVORITE

My humans like the New York Times. So do I - lots of sections make for comfy napping.

Occasionally, something catches my eye.

I saw this and immediately thought of my mom. And not because of the skinny part, either, that's for sure! (Oops, I'm talking out loud again!) Anyway, she has a copy of this around here somewhere when it's not on loan.

Bless her bitchy heart - when I pointed the ad out to her she was so thrilled she got teary.

Yeah, she's strange like that.

Still, this slim book is a fun, fast read. See what other people are saying about Skinny Bitch.A million people can't be wrong.

Well, given the last presidential election, 62 million people can be horribly wrong, so let me rephrase that: Tazarina is never wrong. Do me proud - and earn me about 2.3 cents in the process - by getting your very own copy of Skinny Bitch right here.

SIZE MATTERS

As you know from my post last week, my pet parents saved all those photos of me, me, me and a few other things (like this fun one of an odd sight on a busy Florida street), so you may as well enjoy them to the fullest.

That's why I wanted to tell you - in case you didn't know - that when you click on any image here on my great space, it opens up to full size for your viewing pleasure.

Go ahead, try it! (I'll wait here and pick my back claws with my teeth, or something.)

. . . 

Awww-some, huh?

THE TAO OF TAZZIE

I've been around the block a few times. I know stuff. And I feel it's my duty to impart this worldly wisdom to you.

In bitty, bite-size doses, of course.

From other people's mouths.

So here's my first quote of the day, week, whatever, whenever I have a minute:

"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated."

- Mahatma Gandhi

CONCHED OUT

A friend of mommy's is going to Key West this week. She wishes it was her.

And so do I!

I see me in a big, big house, so big I might never cross paths with Casey again. It has old, wood floors, water views and wraparound verandas where we can all laze in the island heat as a fan whirs sleepily above, whisking little beads of sweats off our noses.

There'd be a swing or two, of course. And dainty tables for resting cool drinks and good books. It'd be our very own Hemingway house! That's where I got the idea. Mom took this picture of his house from the top of the Key West Lighthouse Museum.

My folks love Key West and say it's very cat-friendly.

They're everywhere.


(And, if this fella is any indication, they're very used to strangers stepping over them.)



As are, oddly enough, chickens.

Anyway, I could sneak away from mom and slip in, say, to the Hemingway house, get shown around,

you know, blend in.

Oh, who am I kidding? What with these delicate feet.

I'd be spotted as an intruder immediately.






(Compare with Casey's huge cloppers. He'd fit right in with those six-toed freaks!)

Still, a kitty can dream. ....