Our Brandy is growing into quite the little Hoolikitten.

She can now outeat Stosh, which I never thought possible. Stosh has
always been a piglet in a tuxedo, with the table manners of a drunken
fratboy trying to eat pizza blindfolded, with hands tied behind the
back. I think Stosh feels outdone and isn't liking it. I hear him
sometimes muttering obscenities under his breath.

Just a half-hour ago my hubby was relaxing in the tub, and almost broke
his 4r$e climbing out to rescur Brandy from the laundry chute. One of us
yutzes left the door open, and our kitten, brimming with curiosity,
decided to investigate this unexamined space. I heard Louie screaming,
swearing, then saw Brandy run from the john with her tail all brushed
out. Louie told me her feet were still at the edge, but she was halfway
in, the naughty little kid!

Awakening earlier in the week, Brandy decided to play dress-up.
Specifically, she wanted to see what it would be like to actually be a
hat. As I was half-up, she flung herself on my head and gripped my hair
with those nice little needly claws that kittens seem to have so many
of. Tired of that game, she wanted to try being a fur stole for Roxie.
But Roxie already came with fur, a deal made with her creator at the
time of her making, and had little use for more fur. She swatted her
younger sister down and muttered something which may or may not be
printable. Brandy then tried herself on Stosh, and an innocent game of
dress-up turned into a Mike Tyson-Evander Holyfield match. Roxie is very
much a pacifist at heart and doesn't care to watch violent sport. She
hopped down from her tower, bapped them both on the nose, and walked
away muttering "naughty children, can't teach them a thing..."

Blessed be,

Baha