Virginia FINALLY cooled off and now the leaves are falling like mad. The acorns are crazy, too, so it’s like walking on marbles to go anywhere in the yard.
My house sprung a new quirk in the form of a weird tapping in the living room wall behind the TV. It had some intelligence because it would stop if I walked near it or went out on the deck or into the crawlspace to investigate. But I never saw anything.
The pest control guy I hired also heard it but couldn’t find the source, so he left some chemicals. I haven’t heard it for two days since then, so whatever it was may have moved on or died.
Speaking of the deck, one of my house’s good qualities is how high it is. This is the view from the deck. It feels like living in a treehouse…
Last night I was too tired to cook, so I popped this Lean Cuisine into the microwave…
The instructions were a little weird — 9 minutes at 50% power. I watched TV in the living room while waiting for the microwave to ding, but it just kept running and running and running.
Eventually, I realized something was wrong and this is what I found. These meals never look like what’s on the box, but this was ridiculous…
The timer showed 66 minutes left at 50% power. I must have accidentally punched in 90 instead of 9, so I’m glad it was only at half-power or I might have burned the house down.
But I know you’re dying to for cat news, so enough about me. The other morning, Tony toyed with being a tabby…
He’s also been enjoying some fresh brown paper from Chewy.com delivery. He thinks it’s an invisibility cloak…
Lately, Max has been spending nights on my bed, but his favorite spot is between my legs, which means I can’t move. So, I relocated from the living room a cat bed they’ve all ignored for ages. Max actually slept in it the first night and made it the hottest new ticket in town. The next morning, Roc relinquished his claim on his own favorite bed to Tony so he could grab Max’s spot…
The following morning right after breakfast, guess where I found Tony staked out?…
Tony wouldn’t budge even after Roc showed up. Roc often bullies Max, but he knows better than to mess with the Tonester…
Almost forgot. Back in October for my birthday, my sister gave me this personalized mat. You’ll notice the kitties on it are furatomically correct…
In the same instant the video shifted to Asia the girlfriend, the table lamp blew its bulb. My light bulbs always fail when I first switch lamps on, not after they’ve been burning a few hours. Maybe it was coincidence, but it creeped me out.
Commenters here have discussed Tom’s treatment of Asia in the book, so I had to ask him about…
Anthony Bourdain’s Last Girlfriend
CW: On page 217, you wrote…
“Tony’s ethic of relentlessly pushing the envelope — the very drive responsible for getting us where we were — had reached such a fever pitch, it felt like the pace was becoming unsustainable.”
It seemed you felt this while you were making the 2016 Rome episode with Asia. Why then? Was she trying to direct? What was the dynamic?
TV: A lot of scene ideas, like the boxing and pasta, and the stornellis [Italian street songs] that were so beautiful, were her idea. Those Roman folk songs are dirty and hilariously dark. She made a lot of creative contributions, but she was definitely not directing the episode. But it was very high stakes because Tony wanted to not fuck it up.
I think that period in general was particularly tough. The shoot with President Obama was coming up and completely top-secret. Constant battles with the accounting department were grating. Tony wanted to do fancier, more expensive things just as they were clamping down on the spending.
CW: Were you on the shoot with Tony and Asia in Southern Italy?
TV: I did do that one, yes.
CW: How were they together then? It seemed joyous. He was in love, and they were having fun at the beach, on the boat. Was the vibe good? Putting it in historical perspective, they had come out as a couple, right?
TV: I think we were in Portugal when they became public in February 2017. And Italy was June 2017.
CW: They were in their honeymoon phase.
TV: But it was an incredibly difficult shoot for a host of reasons. Italy is one of the greatest countries to visit, but also the most difficult and stressful from the production standpoint. For example, we set up this whole scene for a big party at a farm, then at the last minute the police shut us down because the location was being used as refugee resettlement area and it didn’t have the right permits. We lost an entire day of shooting due to some stupid bureaucratic miscommunication. Things like that were happening.
On the other side, I don’t think Tony was ever so nice and happy, to me, as he was on that shoot.
CW: Something we’ve debated at Cats Working is how you went to Rome seeking answers and met with Asia. She asked about his will and supposedly missing fortune. In the book, it seems like the first thing out of her mouth, but was it really further into the conversation?
TV: No, she pretty much opened with that.
CW: So, in so many words you conveyed her priority. Some seemed to fault you because they felt you were giving her a pass. Did she ever take any responsibility at all?
TV: I certainly don’t think she wanted Tony to kill himself. That probably screwed up her life in a lot of ways, too. I’m not saying she handled things the right way, by any stretch of imagination. But in my book — I wasn’t in Hong Kong or Florence — I only write about things I saw.
It was really difficult for me in that when Tony got together with her, he became a lot nicer to me. She was always very good to me. I think it’s unquestionable she played some role in his downfall. I guess I was blinded to the fact that something wrong was happening, whether it was her fault or not, because he got nicer to me.
CW: It sounds like she didn’t feel you were any threat, like maybe she did Zach or Helen.
TV: I knew how important pleasing her was to Tony. I moved mountains to make things happen, whatever he wanted, as I always did for Tony.
CW: Maybe she thought you were her ally. Perhaps you can confirm or debunk a rumor that circulated after he died. Did he ever buy her a house in Rome?
TV: No, he didn’t.
CW: In hindsight, that now makes sense. Where your book made my eyes Boing! out like a cartoon was when Tony told you she would be moving to New York in fall 2018.
TV: That was the plan.
CW: We dodged a bullet there, in a twisted way. The mess it would have created for everyone related to both of them. And to promote her “career,” he’d have found ways to get her in our faces every day.
TV: He was in love. He acted like a teenager about it. But he reacted to a lot of things like a teenager. That was part of his magic. He was really a romantic.
CW: He did have a certain boundless child-like enthusiasm. When he found something he really loved, a place a food, a person… That’s what made him inspiring for so many people. He pulled out all the stops.
TV: Back to the topic of giving Asia too much of a pass, in the book I don’t try to judge. It’s up to the reader, in the same way it was to me, to try to derive meaning from those things. It wasn’t always clear.
CW: I think you were even-handed. The Oral Biographyseems more damning.
TV: I’m sure everything in the Oral Biography is true. What I include in my book is what I saw directly.
CW: That’s what sets your book apart. The Biography puts several degrees of separation between Tony and the reader. Your book is firsthand. Plus, you’re fair to the point of being too hard on yourself. Tom, the fact that you could go toe-to-toe with Tony for so many years and survive, while creating amazing TV, is proof that you’re much stronger than you probably think you are.
TV: Tony used to talk about how your greatest humiliations are most entertaining or funny for other people to read. I don’t think I 100% consciously set out to do that. But after having been steeped in Tony’s storytelling process for so long, I see the book is definitely a collection of my biggest fuckups and worst moments and failures. He was right, again. Those do make the most interesting stories.
CW: On page 282 you wrote…
“I’ve struggled with persistent questions of whether he actually cared enough about me to give me his best.”
I think if you can’t picture what his best would have looked like — had it been even better than what you got from him — that answers your question. I believe he did give you his best.
TV: He did.
CW: And I think a lot of people would agree.
BONUS: Tom loves cats.
CW: Being Cats Working, I have to ask about the many random shots of cats on your B roll that made it into the shows.
TV: Tony would joke a lot about my cats and my relationship with cats. I adore cats. So, the camera guys knew whenever a cat was around they would film it, and I’d use it in the edit.
CW: Do you have any cats currently?
TV: I do, Lucy and Tabby.
CW: Are they both females?
TV: They are. Both Tabby and Lucy are tabby white, which is half white, half tabby. But I think Lucy, because of her very distinctive meow and incredible elegance, is actually at least half or mostly Siamese. They’re rescue cats.
When I named him Tony Bourdain, I should have known Tony the cat would be a rebel. The hill he’s chosen to have me die on is apparently collars. For decades, all of my cats have worn collars without incident. Until Tony…
You may remember, last year at the beginning of the pandemic, after Tony destroyed his orange collar, he got a blue one…
It didn’t take him long to scare the crap out of me by working his jaw under it to choke himself. I think he cut his tongue in the struggle because the collar was bloody by the time I heard his screams and snapped it off of him.
That was the end of collars for Tony, until this past April when Max’s birthday wish was for everyone to get new collars.
The ones I found were light and super-soft, but Tony popped out of his almost immediately. Roc and Max, who have both always worn collars, seemed fine with theirs.
But Tony must have been applying peer pressure behind my back, because Roc eventually popped his collar off, repeatedly, until I gave up.
Max held out until about a week ago, when he turned up naked one morning. Several days later, I found his collar at the base of his favorite perch…
Max would have let me put it back on him, but it’s looking shabby now. To go for his annual checkup and shots yesterday, he did agree to wear Tony’s like-new collar to the vet’s. Who do you think wore it better?…
Another Mysterious Incident…
A few weeks ago, I found this mouse in the hall outside my bedroom…
None of current cats have EVER played with it, and I have no idea which toy box it came from. But it’s tatty, so somebody must have loved it once. I just don’t remember who.
After several days undisturbed on the floor, it disappeared and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Then it reappeared and I saw Roc give it a few half-hearted kicks, but nobody has touched it since.
Tony and Roc have favorite toys (yellow sparkle ball, Fuglen the bird, respectively) they carry around, but they never just carry around random stuff, so red mouse is our new mystery.
RAL’s 2022 Calendar Went to the Dogs…
Because the contest got so cut-throat last summer when Tony came in 12th and became Mr. July 2021 on the Richmond Animal League calendar, I’d never get mixed up in this event again. The contest for the 2022 calendar wrapped up last Saturday and I caught the last 30 minutes. It raised a bit less than Tony’s calendar (approx. $66K vs. $80+K), but the competition was no less vicious and only three cats made the final cut.
Another black dog comfortably dominated by $6.5K until the last eight minutes, when a pair of dogs in third place threw in $6.6K and claimed the No. 1 spot.
The top fundraising cat, in fourth place with just over $3K, was a tux named Popeye Hailey…
Also winning was a black cat named Thackery the Bestest…
A tortie came in 11th place. Next year’s calendar will have nine dogs and only three cats.
The real drama was a cat named Father Christmas we were all rooting for because he looks like Tony’s great-great-great-great-great grandfather…
But in the LAST THREE MINUTES, some stupid dog in a bandana made a last-ditch donation and pushed Father Christmas off the calendar into 13th place by only $21.
FUN FACT: The roughly $2.5K that Tony’s fans contributed last year would have put him in seventh place in this year’s contest.
Roc Dreams He’s a Tabby…
With humidity, the weather here has been feeling like 100+ for weeks on end now and we’re all wiped out. I happened to catch Roc this morning in Max’s favorite perch spot, masquerading in stripes as a tabby…
Yesterday was a big day here, but as in any suspense tale, I’m going to work backward to describe it.
Last night, after an afternoon under the bed (why in a minute), Tony must have been feeling his 31 days of fame waning as Mr. July on the Richmond Animal League’s calendar.
After dinner, he threw himself down on the living room floor to contemplate his next career move and wonder if he had peaked too soon…
But with Tony’s looks, brains and charisma, he has nothing to worry about. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.
In the afternoon, a crew I’ve been waiting nearly two months for finally showed up to take down the dead tree in the front yard.
In the spring, I worried when that tree was a few weeks late putting out leaves, and its trunk looked paler than the others. Then when all the new leaves immediately began to die, I had to pull the plug on it or risk it taking out my office and the kitchen in a storm.
I never watch when I lose a tree, but I think it came down in sections because there was never a big crash. A lot of moss in the yard was torn up where I guess the pieces fell.
Nevertheless, it was a noisy business. Roc sat calmly in the living room with me through it all. Max stayed in the Man Cave and Tony went under the bed.
Grinding the stump turned out to be the worst of it. This is now our view from the big kitchen window. The red circle is where the tree was…
My yard guy isn’t returning my calls about cleaning up. Here’s the mess from the walk, facing the house. This isn’t a situation that’s just going to heal itself over time…
But the day began in my bedroom with something I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t seen it myself. This bookcase is one of six around the house and stands opposite my bed. It holds mostly New Age books from my 30s, as well as other prized volumes, like the copy of Little Women I got at Orchard House, Louisa May Alcott’s home in Concord, Massachusetts, where she wrote it…
Notice the arrow pointing to a book I pulled out on the bottom shelf, just to show you where it came from. It was actually on the shelf in line with the rest. Since Roc refused to participate in a reenactment, the black stuffy cat on the floor is his stand-in, and a waterbowl is to its left.
Anyway, I was making the bed and Roc was getting a drink. He turned to walk past the bookcase when that book suddenly flew out and fell on the floor in front of him. Roc jumped back, but then calmly went around it and hunkered down in the opposite corner to watch ME.
Did he know or see who did that?
It was just like the poltergeist activity you see on Paranormal: Caught on Camera.
The cats never bother that bookcase, and I haven’t touched it myself in months. This is the book that flew out…
It happens to be the last book I shelved there, unfinished because I didn’t like it. I felt a little tingly as I put it back.
There’s no way that book moved on its own. No book has EVER fallen off that shelf before. So, what was it? It couldn’t have been the spirit of the tree, because this happened hours before either of us knew it was going down that day.
BONUS: Cats Working reader Glamour Milk uncovered this (possibly) maiden interview with Anthony Bourdain in 1995. He was just 39, pre-thumb ring, pre-Les Halles, beginning his writing career as a novelist with Bone in the Throat)…
He wrote a second novel, Gone Bamboo, before he hit it big with Kitchen Confidential. You have to download the interview here…
It’s TGIF here today. I snapped pics of the crew this morning so you can see how they’re doing. After finally shoveling a mammoth editing project out of here, this week I was finally able start reading World Travel: An Irreverent Guide by Laurie Woolever, channeling Anthony Bourdain. I’m enjoying it and awed by the research. But the dips into each country are so brief, I want to rewatch the shows she sourced to see the meals and restaurants again.
Tom Vitale, Tony’s longtime director and producer, has written In the Weeds: Around the World and Behind the Scenes with Anthony Bourdain. It’s being published by Hachette in hardcover (not Bourdain’s Ecco imprint). At only 6” x 9”, I assume it’s more narrative than the oversized photo books previously published about the shows, which is great. I hope Hachette does better with the cover art and this is just their Amazon placeholder…
Amazon’s also peddling at least three unauthorized Bourdain “biographies.” One is 53 pages, has no named author, and you can get it free with Kindle Unlimited. Another is only 17 pages by a writer — probably fittingly — named Dumm. And the third bio is supposedly 30 pages of “interesting facts.”
A fourth 152-page book is an English translation of “Reflections” on his death “by Suicide????” (question marks are in the actual title, so, believable????). The original is in Spanish and seems to be a dredging of the conspiracy delusions we were fed by certain parties in Italy, if you get my drift.
I’ve decided not to read these because it means buying them, and I don’t want to support them. Also, it wouldn’t surprise me — but would totally piss me off — if I found material lifted from Cats Working. Better for them that I never know.
Lately, Max has been joining the rest of us downstairs in the evening. After Adele died, he assumed her duty of signaling when it was time for after-dinner treats and fish flakes by scratching on the bookcase where I keep them.
Max tends to rotate where he settles down for TV after that. Until a few weeks ago, he stayed in his bed near the sliding door. But now he’s back on the purple blanket on the couch.
This is where it gets weird. Roc has been joining Max in the friendliest manner he can muster. (This doesn’t leave much room for me to stretch out, BTW.) And Max is warily OK with it.
I took these photos on three different nights…
This isn’t the first time we’ve had detente after five years. Years ago, when Cole finally discovered my bed and started sleeping there, Adele, who had been a firm fixture, immediately vacated. She moved to a bed I put on my dresser so she could give Cole the stink-eye all night.
Five years later, she did a 180 and became perfectly cordial to Cole. Unfortunately, by then Cole’s kidneys were beginning to fail and he only got to enjoy a year of Adele’s friendship before he left us…
And now after five years, Roc suddenly seems to be trying to buddy up to Max.
I know you’re probably wondering if/how Tony figures into all of this. He’s making like Switzerland and staying neutral. While Roc has fur-on-fur contact with Max, Tony may be in his little bed on the hearth…
After I cleared my winter knitting supplies off it, Tony discovered the big chair (I crocheted myself a plush throw like the couch cat blankie — I DO NOT recommend that chenille yarn. It’s a bitch to work with.)…
You may remember, directly behind the big chair is the new gray perch I had to assemble from scratch. It’s become Tony’s spot. He uses every inch except that hammock at the bottom, and he’ll lounge on it for hours, day or night. I’ve even seen him using the sisal scratching posts after he saw Roc do it.
NEW: Scroll down to see the video I promised on Tony on ‘nip.
On Friday, April 9 (same day England’s Prince Philip died at 99), Max turned 10, so it seemed only fair to ask how he’d like to celebrate his milestone birthday. Our conversation went something like this (if you speak cat)…
Me: Max, is there anything special I can do for your birthday this year? You’re not into fancy food. Lately, you’ve even been meh about your fish flake treats. I need some ideas.
Max: I want a new collar.
Me: Seriously? Isn’t that like asking for underwear?
Max: You know I’m hard on collars, but I wear a tux every day and I hate it when my neck looks tatty.
Me: Good point. My bad.
Max: And I don’t want a collar just for me. I want EVERYBODY to get new collars.
Me: So you’ve noticed Roc’s red collar is a bit scraggly? He likes having that “been there, done that” look. But you know how Tony is about wearing collars.
Max: Tony’s almost two years old now. It’s time he pulled up his big-boy fur and stopped looking like a stray. I think he’s ready.
So, I followed Max’s orders and found three colorful summer collars at Chewy.com. Stop here for a second and decide for yourself who you think got which one…
When they arrived, the first order of business was to remove the bells, which nobody likes (including me). I must say, these collars are silky soft and the lightest ever, so I had high hopes they’d be a big hit.
Max got to pick the one he wanted. Being a lifelong pacifist, he chose the mellowest one…
Roc got the geometric pattern and seemed quite pleased with how it looked…
Tony, our wild child, got the Jackson Pollock. He seemed to relish his newly mature appearance…
He was happily lounging on his blue perch in it when I took this picture. Little did I know he was hatching a plan…
Just a few minutes later, he scampered through my office like Lord Godiva without a horse. I found the collar on the floor beside the perch. He’d managed to pop himself out of it…
I tried a few more times to get Tony to wear his collar, but no dice. No matter how snugly it fit, he’d work his jaw under it and pop it off. So, I’ll put it away and try again later, or give it to Max eventually.
Roc followed Tony’s lead a few days later and popped his off, too, so right now they’re both running around in only the fur God gave them.
Max just shook his head at their foolishness and meowed, “My good deeds never go unpunished”…
UPDATE: The biggest hit of Max’s birthday celebration was the catnip, and I finally figured out how to bypass my balky iPhone and get online the clip I caught of Tony getting wacked out until he realized I was filming him…
Here’s Tony after another few snorts. That’s the empty bowl of ‘nip he snorted beside him…
I’m being a blog hog for another day because over the weekend I brainstormed with Max and Tony and we came up with a cat version of Pooch Perfect in case NBC or CBS is interested in giving ABC some competition that’s real entertainment.
Our show’s title is CattyGories. Let that sink in a minute, because it sums up the concept perfectly.
The human contestants would be people who claim they’re pet psychics or cat whisperers. You know, people who live under the delusion that they can get cats to do stuff.
The kitty contestants may be temporarily captured ferals, shelter cats or even cats who have good homes. Since this show is so NOT like Pooch Perfect, cat owners might WANT their cats on it to get their 15 minutes of national TV fame.
Why? Because it has an intriguing twist. The usual premise of these “game” shows is for humans to exploit animals for their own amusement. With CattyGories, humans must depend on the kindness and mercy of the cats, and their goal is to stay in the cats’ good graces to keep from bleeding out.
The competitions are tailored around things cats might — or might not — want to do normally. Without using brute force or cruelty of any kind, the humans must attempt to complete simple tasks like:
Give the cat a mani-pedi, or apply fake adhesive covers to the cat’s claws
Teach the cat to use a people toilet
Put the cat in a carrier
Train the cat to fetch
Get the cat to come when called by name
Keep the cat off a countertop where there’s a freshly roasted chicken
Walk 10 feet with the cat on a leash
Get the cat to sit on their lap for 5 minutes
Each week, nobody gets kicked off, but one human is declared that week’s loser based on how badly they failed to get their cat to cooperate and the total dimension of spatters on bloody tissues they accumulated in the attempt.
On the final show, the judges add up the total inches of scratches and count how many puncture wounds each human sustained. The one with the lowest number of both “wins.”
The performance of the cats is never judged in any way. On the final show, EVERY cat is declared a winner. Because with cats, there’s no such thing as losing.
And maybe dogs will watch CattyGories and learn something. Such as, if they’re ever conscripted to be on a TV show like Pooch Perfect, they don’t go down without a fight bite. At the very least, every human on the set should get one leg humped and the other one peed on.
My previous installment, which I was rather pleased with, turned out to be one of those, “If a tree falls in the woods” endeavors, in that:
If you post a blog entry and no one likes or comments on it, was it really worth your time to write it?
So I’ll keep it brief today. (I’m also slammed with paying work and just taking a quick break to maintain my blogging schedule.)
Last night, in an unexpected display of camaraderie, Roc snuggled down beside Max on the couch, and Max let him…
Max was only there because Tony was hogging Max’s usual bed. But with Roc at his back, Max couldn’t let himself snooze with both eyes closed and dashed back up to the Man Cave shortly after I snapped the photo.
And Tony always manages to pose in totally disproportionate ways, like here…
His tail and leg look far longer than his head size would dictate, not to mention those “Obama ears,” wouldn’t you agree?
Wait, never mind. Silly me, asking questions.
BONUS: The rights to Anthony Bourdain’s second novel, Gone Bamboo, have been sold to be developed into a scripted TV series set in the Caribbean (St. Martin, if they keep it accurate). The pilot has not yet been written and no network has offered to buy it, but fingers crossed the deal goes through. I loved Bourdain’s fiction.
In this paragraph from page one describing the protagonist, “Henry,” are you getting any familiar vibes? (Shit, there I go again. Forget I asked.)…
The other man at the table was tall, around six foot four, thin, and deeply tanned. He looked in his mid- to late forties, with long, dark brown hair, sun-bleached in spots and going to gray, tied back in a ponytail. He was dressed in faded blue jeans with holes in the knees and a loose-fitting long-sleeve T-shirt. He was wearing no socks or shoes, and even his feet were tan. In the dimly lit motel room, the darkness of his skin made his eyes and teeth and the gold hoop earring in his left ear flash unnaturally bright.
Now about 20 months old, our Tony (a.k.a. RAL’s “Mr. July”) is growing up. I’m watching him morph from a scatterbrained kitten into a cat who’s trying to figure out and find his place on the crew.
Last night — I’m pretty sure for the first time — Tony glued himself ALL night to me in bed, even though it wasn’t particularly cold, which is what usually motivates their cuddling. If I moved, he’d scooch closer to maintain full contact. He’s always come and gone at night, sometimes not showing up at all, and I have no idea where else he sacks out.
During the day, he still won’t sit with me for more than a few seconds, and doesn’t like being petted if he sees my hand coming. But he’s still enough of a daredevil to have taken a few falls recently. The first one was totally my fault.
We were in the bathroom. I was facing away from the toilet when he jumped onto the seat as a step up to the sink. When I turned around, I accidentally knocked him into the toilet (it had been flushed).
Adele did that once when she was a kitten. She was in and out in one move and splashed everywhere.
But Tony was nonchalant, probably because he likes playing in water. He calmly pulled himself out and scampered off like nothing happened.
Next, we were having nightly TV time when Tony fell off the second beam. He was alone up there, so he wasn’t pushed. I heard scrabbling above and he flew past just as I turned my head, coming down in front of the lamp. We took this later, just to show you the logistics…
A straight trajectory would have landed him in the kitty fountain, but he bounced off the end table and hit the carpet in a crouch beside the fountain. He was dazed enough to let me pick him up and make sure he was OK. And it didn’t scare him off that beam…
Speaking of the end table, I had put a blanket there when Max was using it as a hangout, so Tony didn’t hit a hard edge in his fall. Now that blanket is Tony turf. After dinner, Tony often spends his entire evening by me on the table instead of taking his evening siesta in the bedroom…
It was when he started doing that, that I realized he’s taking cues from Max, even though Max shows not the slightest interest in Tony. It started at Christmas when Tony began bogarting Max’s favorite beanbag bed on the Man Cave couch. Max now mostly refuses to sleep there.
Natural leader that Roc is, you’d have thought Tony would look up to him, but maybe he realizes Roc is too much of a bad boy. They do spend the most time together, but mainly to use each other as punching dummies.
Max, after losing his Man Cave bed, claimed the living room bed overlooking the deck. Now Tony takes that whenever Max leaves and is even trying to ingratiate himself with Max’s faithful Catty(pillar)!
Tony’s hero worship is not going unnoticed by Max. He’s done a few interesting things himself since this started, but I’ll save those for Thursday.
Here’s one last pic of the little man, plotting his next move…
BONUS: In my continuing series on misleading in frozen dinner packaging, here’s one from Boston Market. Except for the gravy being browner, I think it looks suspiciously like Stouffer’s Swedish Meatballs…