. . . cause santa didn't bring them a darn thing. completely understandable - uncle leo is the neighborhood serial killer; cuda is always trying to sleep on the car, and on the couch and on the bathroom rug and on anyplace she's not supposed to be (daddy hates that), plus she's just generally sneaky; and newman is generally just a hater. so, no wonder santa didn't bring them stuff. momma got coal in her stocking too; i think that was santa telling her to walk us more. although santa didn't bring me any chocolate, i got a lot of bones and treats (and i did have a york peppermint pattie for breakfast) and toys that squeak. lindy hates those squeaky toys; she always wants to rip their guts out. momma made beef bourguignon for dinner too and we had some of that (but that stuff gives me the toots).
uncle leo has been following us to the ball fields every morning and waking up the neighbors with his insistent yelling. i don't know what he wants - who can understand cat-talk anyway.
its raining outside today; the world must be coming to an end.
time to take a nap.
love and chocolate kisses,
daisy daffodil
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