Oooh bay-bee I wanna get witcha, and take yo pitcha

Me and Elle’s Belles had a mini-photoshoot last night. I’ve been trying to use my remote switch more often and it totally confuses her. She’ll whip her head around really fast when she hears the shutter go off, just on the off chance that she’ll catch the magical elf who takes pictures.  Not the sharpest feline, but I do love her dumb stupid face. (Also, I am wearing a tank top, you just can’t see it because of a certain “husky” furball who is taking up most of the frame. These are not nudie cat photos, I promise.)

“Are you getting this? The human person is STILL staring at me, isn’t she? Ugh.”

If you’re close enough to her face, Ella will rest her forehead right against yours. I never get tired of it. Annoyingly adorable habit of hers. The second part of that move usually involves getting a wet nose directly to the eyeball. And yet I still don’t mind.

“Best.hiding.place.everrrr. She will NEVER find me here!! Shhh. She’s coming!”

“Son of a… she’s got me again. I can’t believe I put up with this human person. Do you see what she does to me? With the kissing and the loving?”

Must.escape.death.trap.

“Dammit woman. Are we not done yet? How many more? I AM sitting still, stop fussing at me.”

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful and big boned.

~ by Clare on 05.15.08..