I can't believe it...my little Brandy-candy's turned into a Cat.

It seems to have happened overnight. Kitten fluff has turned into a shiny,
sleek calico tuxedo with a soft white shirt-front. Of course, I should have
expected this, she's already a year and a half old for heaven's sake! But
I'm Die Katzenmutter, and like any old-country Mutti I keep thinking of them
as babies. But all of a sudden, the baby-fat's melted off--something I have
been trying to do unsuccessfully for thirty years--and our Baby Girl is now
toned, fitter than she looked a few months back. I figure it must have come
from wrasslin with Stosh, and playing Chase with Odessa, one of the
Tsarina's favorite games. And I have cat-envy again! I bust my tuchus doing
yoga and I go to Curves, and boy do I have curves! Too many of them, damn
it.

But man, has she become a beautiful cat. Don't get me wrong, I think she
knows she's the Baby so she can work the Cute like The Donald works money.
She still has the wide, big button eyes, and the paws that look a litle too
big, and the huge tail that's smooth and sleek but fluffs as big around as
the rest of her when she gets spooked. I so wish I could get my kitty
pictures scanned and into someplace where you can see my babies. And yeah,
they're still babies, even now that they're all cats.

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.