Marilyn and Sheldon
Member Since 2014
The Gotcha Day Condo
Recap 2/1
279 AMPS
267 +3
251 +8
250 PMPS
236 +3
221 +7.5
For a shy girl, Miss Polly sure liked all the attention yesterday in her Gotcha Day condo. She's still walking around with her chest puffed out, a certain stomp in her step, and I'm sure I heard her hiss to Rowsie, "It's my day. My day. My day." To which Rowsie responded, "Our day. Our day. Our day. You twit."
And this morning, well, it was pretty special. I'm sucking coffee in the kitchen shortly after the critter breffis. Usually, all stumble off to slumber away the morning. But not today.
I see Miss Polly sorta hunched over something in the corner of the dining room, very intent. I think. A bug? No. OMG, they got a mouse. Arghhhhhh. And then Miss Polly starts batting "IT" around. Not a bug, not a mouse. Rowsie's baby (a shoe lace that Rowsie carries around cooing over). She bats it under the dining room table, bat-bat-bat, back out onto the dining room floor, bat-bat-bat, over under one of the chairs, bat-bat-bat....oh, look. There's a plastic ball.....And off she went. Batting and chasing, batting and chasing. Skidding and sliding and batting. She hasn't played like that....well, really, ever. She's not a player. 'Cept for this very special morning!
I smell a downward creep in her numbers today. Not holding my breath nor placing any bets....but maybe.
And the windows are open! Polly's in her "summer sill," all's right in Pollywood.
Vines and wishes.
Marilyn and Polly
Recap 2/1
279 AMPS
267 +3
251 +8
250 PMPS
236 +3
221 +7.5
For a shy girl, Miss Polly sure liked all the attention yesterday in her Gotcha Day condo. She's still walking around with her chest puffed out, a certain stomp in her step, and I'm sure I heard her hiss to Rowsie, "It's my day. My day. My day." To which Rowsie responded, "Our day. Our day. Our day. You twit."
And this morning, well, it was pretty special. I'm sucking coffee in the kitchen shortly after the critter breffis. Usually, all stumble off to slumber away the morning. But not today.
I see Miss Polly sorta hunched over something in the corner of the dining room, very intent. I think. A bug? No. OMG, they got a mouse. Arghhhhhh. And then Miss Polly starts batting "IT" around. Not a bug, not a mouse. Rowsie's baby (a shoe lace that Rowsie carries around cooing over). She bats it under the dining room table, bat-bat-bat, back out onto the dining room floor, bat-bat-bat, over under one of the chairs, bat-bat-bat....oh, look. There's a plastic ball.....And off she went. Batting and chasing, batting and chasing. Skidding and sliding and batting. She hasn't played like that....well, really, ever. She's not a player. 'Cept for this very special morning!
I smell a downward creep in her numbers today. Not holding my breath nor placing any bets....but maybe.
And the windows are open! Polly's in her "summer sill," all's right in Pollywood.
Vines and wishes.
Marilyn and Polly
