Queen Zee

Zee really has her own great personality. J wanted a tomboy, but we got all girl. One of her favorite things is to dress up. She'll scavenge the house to find articles of clothing (and I use the term "clothing" loosely!), then bring them to us. She patiently insists that either J or I put the clothing on her as she wishes. So, a pair of pants is no longer a pair of pants. Instead, it's a beautiful hat worthy of any Pharaoh's head. But the best is the crown that J made for her. All he did was tear off the end of a 12-pack box of soda then place it on her head, but she loves it. It's her crowning glory, and when she's wearing it, she adopts the regal attitude of any queen worth her title. J and I are her adoring subjects.

Long live the Queen!

On a completely different note, why are cats so gross? I know it's Nuggie who keeps bringing in the dead animals, since Tango is probably too hefty to move quickly enough to catch a turtle, let alone a bird or mouse (of which I've found dead specimens awaiting me in my house recently). Maybe the cat door wasn't such a good idea after all.