Eighty. Long. Weeks.
That's right, my friends, we've been in the throes of this ol' pandemic thingy now for eighty long weeks.
Or in other words...
...four hundred and thirty-five million, four hundred and fifty-six thousand cat seconds, that is.
But we have other stuff to talk about today.
Did you know that even though Saffron is not yet livin' inside with me, he has made some super-duper progress regardin' his relationship with the peeps?
This time last year, whenever Peepers opened the front door to take out his fuds, Saffron would run. Yup, he'd hightail it to the far end of the veranda at the very sight of her. Actually, the far end of the veranda wasn't far enough! Nope, he'd go through the railing, so that he'd have the security of havin' said railin' between himself and the peep.
NOW though, when Peepers opens the front door to take out his fuds, he actually jumps down from the chair he's on and COMES RUNNIN' TO HER.
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
And he lets her pet him and give him chin scritches and behind the ear tickles and everythin'.
Well, not quite everythin'. Peepers isn't yet allowed to pick him up.
Oh, SHE'S BEEN TRYIN', all right, but Saffron is not into the pickin' up thing, at all.
Nope. No sirree. Peepers goes to pick him up and he gets all squirmy wormy, tryin' to get down.
Sometimes he'll let her pick up just his front paws, but his back paws have to stay on the ground at all times. And if Peepers gives him some good behind the ear scritches or chin tickles while holdin' up those front paws, he allows it to continue for maybe half a minute or so.
But then he wants back down.
And do you know what he does after that?
Didn't think you did.
Well, after that...
And then he eats even more!
Saffron says he's pretty sure that if he eats enough kibble and treats, he'll be too heavy for this business with bein' picked up.
Remember to mask up, too.