The well read cat

This is a picture of my beloved TingTing. My son Jonah took this picture. I don't know how much he paid the cat to pose with the book. She likes him and I'm sure he probably didn't have to pay much as long as he keeps me from chasing her around with a brush, trying to collect her shedding fur before it ends up under the couch so that I can save it up for when I learn how to spin and can make a pair of TingTing fur socks. (She has very soft fur. She's blessed that way.) *whew!* That was quite a long-winded sentence!
I did want to do an update on the pink fuzzy vest syndrome thing. My stepdaughter did fess up and tell me she didn't care so much for the dress. There is a bit more to the story and I will spare the general population from the gritty details. Being that I am FTS (that's a southern term for anybody reading this who does not live in the south. I'll give the G-rated definition of it as something that happens once a month.) I didn't take it real well. For those few that know all the sordid details of my life (including those who know ahead of time when I am FTS and know well enough to either stay clear of me or to feed me large quantities of chocolate) you'll hear about the sordid details soon, I am sure, if you haven't already.
And what does this have to do with my TingTing reading a book, you might ask? Nothing except that I like the picture and I do believe TingTing was quite the antithesis of this situation and was actually put out with me when I stole her collar I crocheted for her and turned it into a choker. (Before you think me an evil monster, I did knit another one for her complete with beads. I just have to put the clasps on the ends).