I'm subbing for Kevin until Tuesday. He's probably not leaving his room, so he can watch all the Michael Jackson coverage.
Okay, I don't like cats. I'm allergic to cats. They make me sneeze. Once, a tabby clawed me and my arm swelled up. I looked like The Hulk. Or, part of The Hulk. Two years back, I did rescue a cat, and now it lives in the house across the street and visits our yard regularly. I named it Miles. Why? Just seemed to fit. But that was an exception. Whatcha gonna do when a living creature gets caught in brush behind a fence? Just listen it to it yelp while you're lying in a hammock swatting mosquitos? Nah, you gotta do something, right? So I did. But don't get the wrong impression. I don't like cats. Dogs are jake with me--but some make me wheeze. Which is why my kids want a Portuguese Water Dog. Hypo-allergenic, they say. Yeah, right. It sure doesn't hurt that Sasha and Malia got one--which, I'm betting, raised the price of a PWD pup by a factor of twelve. Can't wait to go shopping for one of those.
But I'm off-topic. Cats. Cat blogging. Just. Don't. Get. It. But tradition--that I understand. Keeping customers satisfied--that I really understand. Don't want to lose no eyeballs. So if the cables can go wacko over Jacko, I can go bats over cats. That is, with the help of longtime Kevin Drum reader BH, who foreseeing my dilemma emailed me pics of his kitties. At least, he says they're his cats. On the Internet, who knows? Names: Walter and Milo. And I don't know nothing else about them. So here's your cat blog.
Milo sitting in an IKEA chair. I hope he didn't have to assemble it.
Walter and Milo after a fight. If only Angelina and Megan could make up so easily