At Sea

Well, we've been at sea for almost two weeks. This is not bad. So far
the bait bucket has been targeted only three times, the rigging has been
climbed numerous times by the kittens, two cat fights have been broken
up, two betting rings caught in action, one cat fished out of the ocean,
and over twenty impersonations of me by Captain caught on tape. The
hoomins are relaxing on the deck when they aren't busy taking care of
us. The fat wench isn't sneezing nearly as much as usual. She says that
the only thing she's allergic to on the ocean is us cats.

PawRob has been taking good care of himself. He's the hoomin guru for us
all. PawRob says that he's owned by all cats, and seems determined to
prove it. He let four of us sleep ON him yesterday afternoon. This
doesn't count the seven that were on the rest of the bed. The fat wench
said that there wasn't enough room for her and took a nap on the sofa
instead. She thrashes around so no cats really want to sleep on her
anyway. Besides she likes to be cooler than PawRob and doesn't keep the
place warm enough.

Gem and the blonde wench are at their usual summer activities. PawRob
told them that they weren't to be hanging out in the rigging, behind the
deck house, or in the crow's nest ever again. Gem says that there aren't
many other places for the two of them to be. The fat wench laughed and
said, "Exactly." I don't understand the big deal. It's not like sex is
that exciting.

Mike has been busy being paw to our latest addition Qui Gun Kit. Qui is
only eight weeks old and a very determined napper. He'll even nap with
the fat wench, given a chance. He loves to nap with PawRob and tries to
snuggle up against QC. Seeing a less than two pound kitten snuggled up
to a twenty-three pound Maine Coon mix is a study in contrasts. The rest
of us laugh at him, but we wouldn't dare smack him, QC has taken Qui Gun
under his paw, even grooming him upon occasion. This is not a good sign
for those of us who'd like to teach the little monster not to play tag
with our tails.

The kitten contingent among this year's crew range from eight weeks to a
little over a year or so old. They have a lot of talent and potential.
We've drafted a bunch into the army as there is the possibility of
meeting up with the dastardly d*g pirate, Captain Ruff, or whatever his
name is, personally, one d*g is like another, the big difference is that
the little ones seem meaner and more dangerous than the big ones.

The rest are being integrated into the crew. For instance, Stanley has
been delegated to assist Scotty, our ship's engineer. Captain and
Harriroadcat have been delegated to assisting the quartermaster, and
Ranger is assisting in the kitchens. The other new members have been
assigned to places that seem to work with their talents. Smokey, our
Bos'n is very good at figuring out where a kit's abilities lie.

The new seine nets seem to be working well, though the hoomins stick to
rods and reels for their fishing endeavors. Between the two methods, we
seem to be doing pretty good on fish, though the hoomins are talking bar
be qued boogers. It sounds nasty to me, but then I'm not hoomin, thank Bast.

Respectfully,

Cap'n Pine Cone esq.