La Doyenne has her ears down because she and Young Guy have been at it for two months. I don't know who starts the fights but they are loud knock-down battles with tufts of fur left in their wake.
Young Guy decides that hiding in empty boxes is a good idea. He is not happy about all the confusion in the house (or McCain's conneries).
This is one reason, I am sure, for the fights. MABFP scoots into the study and has the audacity to settle down into the hammock. She was by herself and then I brought in Orange Guy (the most mellow of the three) whom she is seeing in this photo.
This morning Young Guy was feeling insecure and after he sat on my lap, he settled into the basket.
I got up for a second and La Doyenne settled down on my chair. Who could move her? For those who haven't been around, she is on a wonderful hooked rug version of an orange cat that a parishioner gave me when Orange Guy's predecessor, Jason, died nine years ago.
Orange Guy always likes to hang his head over whatever it is in which he is sleeping.
La Doyenne sleeps in a perfect ball (today) on the 'LOVE A CAT' towel.
Last but not least, here is MABFP in her busted picnic basket (it's minus its top) that is nice and warm and secure.
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