Everytime I cuddle him, I can't help but sing "Snoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-py!" just like the theme song to "Snoopy Come Home."
The theme song:
Snoopy is Mr. Independent. He's not a big fan of being picked up and held, though sometimes he'll tolerate it. He was the last to purr for me, though now he will, espcecially if I scratch his back (and leave him on the floor). He's the biggest of the babies, too.
I differentiate him from Lucy and Charlie Brown by the marvelous mustache he wears.
The first couple of days, he turned up that mustache at the canned kitten food, but now he's snarfing it down as quickly as everyone else. Being the largest, and therefore dominant kitten, he's been known to growl at the others if they try to eat his portion (I serve the tuna on one big plate and position a kitten at each compass point, but it often turns into a free-for-all).
Of all the kittens, I think he was the most appropriate one to be called Snoopy.
"A wittle help, pweaze?"
1 comment:
I do love your soundtracks, hon!! That shot of the Snoopster under the catbed was priceless!
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