The Anti-Norman Rockwell mental picture of my family's Thanksgiving--nicely set, tippy table with a red table cloth, the usual assortment of Thanksgiving dishes, mother, father, daughter, and fully-developed, fully-naked daughter sitting down to give thanks and chow down--made me forget about these two pests. Who, for once, weren't being pesty. Louise and Zeus had a very nice Thanksgiving, thank you very much for asking, because chef Mick dribbled something delectable down the front of the dishwasher and those two freakishly large tongues did not stop their assault on the dishwasher until all human members of the family were done. And for that, I gave heart-felt Thanks. Though the background noise, slurp-slurp, was disgusting.
Mick feels triumphant that he survived a week at home with Samantha.
Hedwig, feeling very thankful for gross, beetle-like, mutant insects that travel by firewood and crawl around for her amusement. I'm less than thankful for these insects and even less thankful for a cat that lets them live because she becomes distracted by the camera and then can't find her bug.
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