Good Things: December 20, 2011: WernerThe cat, who I am calling Werner*, has warmed up to his new home.
[[fluffy sits on the couch, looking uncertain. Behind it on the floor, we see a grey blob that may or may not show the current position of Werner the cat. An arrow points to fluffy, reading "At home, sick with its annual cold".]]
fluffy: Werner, may I observe you? Yes? No? Both?
*After Werner Heisenberg
During the day, he can still only be measured indirectly...
[[A litter box sits in the corner. There is unburied cat poop in the box, and litter has been scratched onto the floor. A short distance away we see Werner's food and water bowls. Food and water have gotten onto the floor around the bowls.]]
But at night it all balances out.
[[fluffy lies in bed, covering its ear with one mitt, as six Werners lay affectionate siege to it. One licks fluffy's hair, one lies face to face with it, one stands like a glowing-eyed zombie cat, one sprawls across fluffy's legs, with another Werner on its back for added weight, and one peeps over the edge of the bed. ]]
fluffy: ARGH! LET ME SLEEP!
Werners: nya! nya! nya! nya! nya! nya!