It's been raining for three days straight. Of course, littlel furball returned home. I might add that she was dry and warm, so I have my suspicions: under the house? in the garage? behind the bookcase. Who knows?

In the dark, all gray cats are black. And for all her vociferousness, she can be stealthy when she wants to be. As many a mouse has learned just before execution.

Jasmine loves to play in the water, but hates the wet grass. As soon as her rump is tickled by wet grass, she hovers in a partial squat, twitching in repulsion. Wet grass, ugh!

The grass has been wet for three days and she holds it as long as she can. Hours, even. Then she just HAS to go outside, rain or no rain, wet grass or not. She bolts outside as soon as I open the door, squats and adds to the general flood in the back yard, and races for the back door again. You'd think she was going to melt if she got wet.

Callie (Calliope) is the only sensible one of the bunch. She lounges atop the nice warm monitor, takes a quick tour of the back yard and returns for the rest of her daylong nap. The quintessential cat.