Condolympics

I like to tell myself the cat has many traits in common with me. Among these are her love of the outdoors, her athleticism, her need to explore, and her lack of concern at putting herself into possibly dangerous situations.

The latter is a characteristic I indulged more often as a younger fellow, but I still have an appreciation for it today (despite my adult body's increased breakability). That's why I completely support behavior of the sort depicted below, to the point of becoming an opportunistic sports photographer and encouraging personal coach to my favorite furred Olympian, the Cinder kitten.


In the start gate.


Ready to jump.


Checking for spectators in the living room.


Posing for spectators at ground level.


Cinderiffic reaches a dead-end...


...and heads right on back.


Excellent dismount!


Another one for the crowds.


Now to explore the other side...


Nice view over here!


Heading past the guest room...


Jailhouse Rock Cinderblock.


Sticks the landing!
NOTE: This is not my balcony.
(Thankfully, my neighbor doesn't
mind contributing his condo
exterior to the course
for this event.)


Peeping in on Mr Neighbor.


And after all that excitement,
some much-needed rest!

Year Of The Cat

I knew I'd enter into a relationship this year, but I was wrong about the species of my co-conspirator. Her name is Cinder (nee Jolie). She is almost 1 years old and hails from Russia.

Here she is in her customary spot behind my music-making device:



Sometimes she ranges further afield, preferring my bed to hers:



We're roommates now. I'm looking after her for Santino's sister in Singapore. I think we'll get on just fine.