cats: that bush

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[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness with a blue bowtie on it, stands in a couple inches of snow on the slope of a hill. His leash is taut behind him to the left, and he’s looking (and pulling) to the right. ]

Loiosh wanted to go out in the snow. Perfectly reasonable! Especially given that Tom had had his turn the day before! But then, disaster struck! (chill, he’s fine)


[ He’s standing on his hindlegs, one forepaw braced on a hummock of snow, the other stuck into a tangle of underbrush, along with his head. ]

See that? Some of that is poison ivy. ASK ME HOW I KNOW.

It’s been almost two weeks as of me writing this (much more by the time this posts, of course) & I have MOSTLY stopped itching.

See, I’m the one who hauled his butt out of the bush.


[ Loiosh is walking out of frame, to the lower right. His tail and leash are still in the bush, thought. ]

& then the next day … welp.

Loiosh was, at least, appropriately apologetic? & kept me company a lot.


[ A close view of Loiosh’s face, turned to the left. Big white whiskers are almost brushing the camera. ]

That’s him laying on my chest. I was GONNA get out of bed, but then, welp. I guess I needed to sleep more. Maybe he even felt a little bad about getting me all ivied up!


[ Loiosh is almost facing the camera now; his ears are stuck out at a variety of angles and he looks EXTREMELY skeptical. ]

… nah

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