Good evening. I am in a fierce, rebellious mood tonight and cannot blog. Ferocious KEM. GRRR! I know my friend Sweet Tulsa is laughing her head off if she is reading this. She thinks I'm a total cream puff. Hardly a toughie.

Well, I will say one thing. Robby loves suspension. For example, I had to shove my two ottomans together and drape a sheet over them. The ottoman upholstery is very nubby, just way too tempting for an as-of-yet unperfectly trained kitten. Huh, did that make sense? So I don't want him scratching it to shreds. When he was tiny he could crawl up under the sheet, you'd see it wiggle. But back then his claws weren't as slicingly sharp as they are now.

Now that he's bigger, you know, some of his tricks have gone by the wayside. But not crawling under the spot by the dishwasher. In fact, today something alerted him that he needed to dive into that little hole lickety-split, throw all caution to the wind. Really, he was a bolt of lightening shooting under there, no allowances made for a tight squeeze whatsoever. I noticed he had more trouble fitting his large little self back out of the small hole, like worming our way into a pair of two sizes too small jeans. Except he was worming his way out. I've had that problem, too, with clothes, now that I think about it.

Anyway, somehow the two ottomans got slightly separated, with the sheet still covering them. Robby discovered this little space in-between, where he can lounge in his hammock. Well, that's what it is, the sheet dips down with only air supporting it. He loves that spot.

He also loves to sleep at night on Mike's suitcase. That's right, I haven't vacuumed and stowed it from his last trip. It's unzipped on the bedroom floor, what else is new? So the lid, being unzipped but not unopened, has some extra "give." What did I call it? Suspension.

That Robby is a character.

A very brief, head-achy KEM