hunter thighs and legs

We wish we could share tales of grand excursions to the Serengeti, of accompanying big ferocious animals, of courage and chivalry, of great scientific discoveries, and so on.

Sadly, all we can share is a pile of mess.  One side of this white complex is dug up for repairs that are not approved by cat boys.

Nope, Augustus does not like this mess

and neither does Ollie.

But let's focus on these gorgeous thighs...

that I had photographed days ago.

Magnificent Hunter Thighs that I like to kiss and tickle.

Mr Sweet Pants

Mr Puffy Pants

And so this morning after going through the mess of the courtyard, and thankfully not remembering last year's projects that tore up other parts of the white complex, we went to the back garden of many delights where certain birds were awaiting their hunters.

Gussy looked up and sang a few come hither notes.

Ollie looked too wishing to attract them with his supernatural beauty.

The birds were not about to land while those hunter legs and thighs were sitting around warming up for a chase.

The day was beautiful.

Mr Sweet Pants did not mind waiting.

Neither did Mr Puffy Pants.

“Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder 'why, why, why?'
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.” 
― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle

Cat boys sent you love and pawfuls of kisses.  Ciao everyone!