Bob C. chicken soup bowls lay in every room ready for pickup.  The
business had gobbled up most everything on the plate, bounced around,
and had disappeared.
 
I gather up dishes spotting no one.  Washing them all in the sink, I felt a
sharp nip on my foot.  Then another, another, and another.Ouch, Mini-Me!
hold on!  Mom is gonna schnuggle.
 
I step back, bend over and pick up the little tyrant for her much needed
attention.
 
But it is Maria who is biting me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
Since her staples have come out, I have finally allowed the girls to stay
in the same cage together, and as a result--it appears that Mini-Me has
taught my gentlest Maria to bite her mommy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Yes, Mini-Me hops on the bed most every morning and attacks my toes and
ankles, runs under my nightshirt up my back to bite my neck.  Talk, talk
talk the whole time.  She is relentless.  I have to get up for the morning,
or put her in another room.)
 
I was still waiting for Maria to start kissing me again.  It never dawned
on me that she was going to start nipping me sharply instead.  What do they
talk about while they chatter so together?  How to bite mommy in a
sensitive area?
 
Where do these almost invisible 16 ounce fur sticks get the temerity to do
this?  These fascinating beings will never cease to amaze me!
 
P.S. As I write this, 2 racoons are growling and wrestling over food on
one side of the porch-knocking over chairs: and a young racoon is sitting
in the large glass bowl of water on the opposite side.
 
He is turning around in it by moving his feet like a kid.  By morning-
there will be a thick mud patty left in the bowl for me to clean out.
And a little racoon will be curled up asleep somewhere with a shiny clean
fur butt.
 
God sure makes cool stuff!
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3493]