Hilbert was in the hallway quietly posing for the camera yesterday when Charlie decided to check in and see what was going on. Before long Charlie was rolling around and photobombing everything in sight while Hilbert sat there scowling at him. It is, after all, Hilbert's week for catblogging.
Hilbert: "What a ham. Disgraceful."
Charlie: "Look how cute I am!"
Hilbert is indeed regardng that junior cat with a jaundiced eye, while appearing to wear an ermine collar...reminds me somewhat of stodgy Charles III.
Charlie seems to be enjoying a return to kittenish behavior, wanting the full attention of the camera & his human.
Cats! Can't do with them and can't do without them. I miss my old cat.
I've been thinking my dead cat would have made a great president.
In fact he'd have been the Republican ideal president,
he didn't do much and by doing nothing he somehow caused the economy to flourish, in the form of luxury goods like cat treats and food that falls from the sky. He ruled with an iron paw, he was wary of external entanglements, and he was massively xenophobic.
He was perfect.
C'est tel gauche.
“Wherever there's magic and make-believe and an audience, there's theatre.”
—Bill Sampson in All About Eve
Da Big H: You again? This again? Don’t you have something better to do?
(Flash and a puff of smoke)
Charlie: This is one of my 126 good sides. Wanna see another. …. You look more interesting upside down.