Happy St Patrick's Day...

 

It's that time of year when everyone is Irish; even if just for the day.  And, as we all know, this is that day when, if you've been a good boy or girl, you will be visited by a Leprechaun who will leave you Irish whiskey and green beer.  Or, if you haven't been good, the Leprechaun will leave you whiskey, green beer, and a heaping helping of corned beef and cabbage.

Or, something like that.

For the record, I am of Irish descent.  Well, Irish and English - my Mother used to tell me, "This is why you have inner turmoil."  To be fair, I don't really have inner turmoil - I let the voices in my head have their say, we take a vote, and majority rules.  The vote will never be for corned beef and cabbage.

No, I didn't wear green today.  If you say you will pinch me, I will tell you to "bite me." 

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Joan left me along with the kitties while she went to the store this morning.  Most of the time, they are sweet.  This was not most of the time.  Tuesday Morning Smackdown the whole time she was gone.  I think they wore themselves out with all the wrestling, slapping, and biting.

And then, a big change: we took the catio out of the living room.  That has been Stella's safe haven since we brought her home.  She and Murphy have been sleeping on the bed with us, so we figured it was time.  The big issue: where to put the food bowls...

 Little Stella: "This ain't right!"  It must have been OK - they both ate.

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And to celebrate St Paddy's Day, I got out on my Japanese motorcycle for a ride.  In the heat.  It was 93º when I got back.  Even though I had water along, I was feeling a bit drained when I got home.  Yeah, I'm going to have to get out earlier for at least the next week or so: starting tomorrow, it is supposed to be over 100º for a high for the next 5 days.  Ah, life in the desert.  Normal highs this time of year should be in the upper 70s.  Too hot, too soon.

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Back to the cat stuff...

Time for the 5:00 meal and putting the bowls close together...

 Once again, Stella needed some encouragement to eat with her bowls in a different location.  I would have thought that after 3 months (3/8 of her entire life) of being a part of our family that we could be trusted to not try to kill her.  "Come on, sweet girl - it's the same food, just a slightly different place."