Do not expect any good photography or clever stories from me tonight, folks. I am drained and exhausted and it is all I can do to make a post at all - but I feel I must post just so you will know that Grahamn Kracker is keeping this blog alive. Those of you who visit the blog in the parallel universe already know what we have been through here since Sunflower fell and hurt herself.

Those of you who don't can find out right here: Sunflower's ordeal.

You  can see how drained Toast Ed and Prickly Pear Blossom are. Thank goodness, Chicago is there to help get them through it.

And here is Royce, getting a drink. I know some of you will be greatly concerned to see such a picture and will want to admonish me to keep him indoors and serve him only the cleanest of water, but Royce is at least 15 years old now, maybe sixteen and he has lived this way all of his life.

We cannot change him now.

Royce walks away from his reflection.

Oh, my! The accident had not yet happened when I took this picture. We had just gotten up and the day was pleasant and we thought that it would remain so. It did not.

Pistol-Yero at 1:07 in the afternoon.

Little Wry Kracker and Muzzy, the strangest looking of all the Kracker cats.

Oh no! This picture got in here twice! Well, I am too lazy to go to html and take it out. That's how exhausted.
Oh, my! They really are exhausted.

And so am I. What would I do, without Jim to help get me through such moments?

First, the happy reunion, then the Easter egg hunt

Very early this morning, Easter Sunday, at about 1:00 AM, Wry came home with his parents after spending more than a week in Arizona and New Mexico. Sunflower was over joyed to see him... but... someone else was eagerly waiting to greet him...

Royce, of course. Oh, what a happy reunion - Kalib and Royce.

The two then went into the bedroom of Toast Ed and Prickly Pear Blossom, where Wry was reunited with Muzzy as well.

Royce, Wry, Muzzy and so on.

Then, after everybody got some sleep, it was time to hunt Easter eggs. Royce led the way.

He kept leading even as Wry plucked eggs off the ground.

Wry and Royce, hunting eggs.

Muzzy stole and ate at least half-a-dozen of them. (If you would like to see the full Easter egg hunt, including images that have no cats, please check out the blog in the parallel universe.)

Charlie came out with Tryskuit, and played a lullaby for Royce, who then drifted off into peaceful sleep.
Juniper came out with Nabysko, but she was not happy.

She was pretty, though, and mighty cute.

Royce and Chicago resumed their nap.

Now we lay our boy down to sleep, and turn him over to our cat to keep

How Royce must love this little boy! The boy we call Wry. How patient Royce is with Wry. Look! Wry is charging toward Royce and Chicago! What can anyone expect the cats to do, but to flee?

Chicago does flee. But Royce stays put. Royce knows what is coming. Royce waits for the toddler to crash down upon him.

Wry and Royce. Wry can be so rough with Royce. Royce is so gentle with Wry.

I often find Royce watching out for Wry, observing him. Remember Wry's first birthday party? Royce was there, to watch him wallow in cake. Remember when Wry took his first steps? Royce was there, to watch and encourage.

Wry gets up. Royce gets up.

Here they are, together again, playing on the floor.

It looks as though Royce whispers in Wry's ear! But a cat can't whisper! What would Royce whisper if he could?

Bend down close and listen... Royce does not whisper, he purrs.

And then, when little Wry goes to bed, Royce is there to say a prayer for him. No! No! No! This is absurd! Cat's don't pray.

Or do they?

How would a human know?

And if a cat prays, what kind of God does it pray to?

A furry God?

A God with a twitchy tail?

A God who purrs?

Surely, if Royce does pray, this is how it translates:

"Dear God - This little kid is rough. He tumbles right down on top of me, rolls right over me. God, this little tyke has been known to pull out tufts of my fur, and stick them in his mouth. But, hell, God! I love him. Watch over him, and keep him safe."

And all this Royce will say with just one single word, "Meow."

"Meow" is one mighty powerful and flexible word.

Carnival of the Cats: I don't know what got into me, because I sure don't have the time or energy, but a few months back, I volunteered to host "Carnival of the Cats" for next week. I must be an April fool. But I am committed and I will do it.

Anyone who wants to submit anything, just send it here:

submissions@carnivalofthecats.com

I respond to an urgent email

Last night, I was sitting here at my computer, earnestly working away, when I heard the "ping" of an incoming email. I checked. The subject read, "right now cats". The sender was my own daughter, Tryskuit, who I knew happened to be sitting no more than 12 feet away from me, in the house, on the living room couch.

It sounded urgent, so I opened it to find the above picture.
As you can imagine, I rushed into the house with all diligent haste. And this is what I saw, less than one minute after Tyskuit took the first picture on her iPhone and emailed it to me.

Well, in just one hour, I must drive into Anchorage and catch a jet to Barrow, where the current, mid-day temperature is -43 and the windchill -68.

I am very sorry to have no choice but to leave Sunflower behind in her condition, but I have to go. I must leave my children to watch over her. During those moments when I am not worried, I expect it to be a fun trip.

I will be busy day and night, and I don't know if I will see a cat.

If I do, it will wind up here - time permitting.

If not, this blog will be on hold for awhile.

Sunflower injured

I apologize for not making any kind of post since we left Wasilla. On the evening of the Inaugural, my dear Sunflower took a bad fall and broke her kneecap and left wrist, and hurt both her other arm and leg as well.

She has since been incapacitated, and I have not been able to go out and find cats to photograph, as she cannot be left alone for the time that would take.

However, Nabysko spotted a calico today and when I get a chance - if I get a chance - I will go to its house and see if her people will share her story and allow me to take some photographs. If so, then I will, of course, share them with you.

Martigny scratches baby wry

Baby Wry in the emergency room, after Martigny scratched him. 

The culprit. We still love her. I have given this more extensive coverage on the other blog, over the past three posts, and right now I just lack the energy to do it again.

You can find that coverage right here.