Lilly is one beautiful lady. People have often asked me if she's purebred. Then, eyes widening when she rolls in the dirt at their feet in greeting, they might ask me if I groom her daily. Truth is, she's a "mutt" from the pound, and the only grooming she gets is whatever she gives her own self. Her brother, handsome boy that he is, looks just like her, facial structure, natural eyeliner, roman nose. Yet he's a pink toed tabby. Well, she has pink toes too, but I was thinking of Maggie, of the black foot tribe, who is also a tabby, but looks nothing like P or L. Then, admiring Lilly and thinking these random things, I turned down a well worn path: Why do a black cat mom and a white cat dad not have grey kittens? I mean, I understand that Pheonix (yes, I know I spell it "wrong") and Lilly had different dads and the same mom, which, really, is weird enough as is, but it explains their different coloring and same bone structure. But it still doesn't explain the whole "grey" thing. I guess it's kind of a funny irony, that life isn't black and white, but instead many shades of grey- and yet, cats, independent creatures that they are, are black... and white... and orange mottled black with diversity. However, beautiful and diverse as Lilly and her fellow felines may be, I bet her morning breath is way worse than mine. I hope I didn't over share with that last picture there, but really, you're lucky I couldn't find the one with the actual squirrel brains leaking out. I'll shush now. I hope I didn't ruin anyone's dinner. I promise, fluffy bunnies tomorrow. Or at least no dead things. Well, maybe a skull.