Magic rejoined our family last Sunday (Mystic is enjoying a week without him). We had to pick him up early because he had, um, an appointment. You see, Magic has gingivitis. His breath smells like nothing I have ever smelled before. It's beyond horrendous. The vet felt that if he didn't get his teeth cleaned, he'd lose them at a young age --- the crazy guy is only two.
So, while millions of Americans don't have access to health care, our ridiculously spoiled cat got his teeth cleaned. I know.
Since Sunday, Magic has been making his presence known in many ways: his usual late night howling, constantly being RIGHT.THERE., and attempting to squash the baby. I can't tell you how many times I've said "Mister! We don't sit on babies in this house." It's a little strange.
Another fun aspect of Magic's return is this:
While it may look as if he's gently kissing Nathan, or perhaps EATING HIM, that's not quite what's happening here.
He's simply stealing the baby's pacifier and taking it back to his lair, erm, thermal mat. He thinks because it's white on the faux snow leopard fur that I won't notice. No such luck, buddy. I saw in your mouth as you carried it away.