Heppy Halloween
The canopener makes us say "Heppy Halloween." Whatever. While she was handing out "treats," if you call chocolate treats, last night, my feline roomies and I were surfing the interwebz and found some pet costumes. Luckily, the canopener doesn't dress us up except for a fez every now and again. We like the bat costume, though you have to have a certain fur color to pull it off. The mouse-like creature looks deelish! That's what I call dressed for dinner. Heppy Halloween! Bl
What the ... where?
So, the canopener woke me up from a nice nap. "We're hitting the social media highway," she says. "Fasten your seatbelt." Of course, I ran under the bed. I hate trips. In my experience, trips only mean one thing ... V. E. T. Very extreme torture. She coaxed me out with a bit of tuna. Eh, I can be had. And there was no sign of the box. The canopener explained about getting this blog thing out to more viewers. Other canopeners, she suspects. But I know better. Yoshi Toshi
