Rusty has found a new place to sleep. Because obviously it's only there for her use. A stack of empty suitcases in the window bay of our bedroom (where the cats generally aren't allowed, but we leave the door open because we are silly like that).

"What??"

"grumble grumble"

It wasn't until after she wanted cuddles and left her cozy spot that I figured out what she was doing there. Grooming. And leaving clumps of kitty fur all over the place for me to clean up/inhale/yell at. Thanks hun.

She sure does like her cuddles. She doesn't like it when I take photos instead of cuddles. Especially when I bring her forward with the hope of cuddles, then sneakily take photos instead. I'm a mean human person...

"Give me cuddles!!!"

"Fine then, I claim your bed as my own."

"What's Mums is mine and what's mine is mine."

And of course, if it's good enough for Rusty it's good enough for Bully.

See this bookshelf? Full of DVD's and such? It's tall, towers over me and I can't reach the top.

"Help!!!"

This is where Bullfrogger hides when he's scared. He jumps up the back of the lounges, runs along the top of the bookshelves without making a sound and stops here at the corner, still fuzzed up and freaked out.

From here he can see the front door, the human peoples and the dog. And if we aren't acting funny, he calms down. Generally kRusty will come in soon after looking for him and he'll get down and go about his merry way.

We figure it's the big fat orange cat that likes to come in our yard. Bully tries to make friends, it attacks. Bully runs away, Rusty fights his battles for him.

It's the only motherly instinct that she has. But I'm glad she does. Bully is a sook.