Meow

Excuse me. Who approved the sky to start yelling? I was in the middle of something important — writing, thinking, being elegant — and suddenly BOOM. How completely rude! The windows are trembling, the air smells weird, and my tail has puffed up to a size I did not authorize. If the thunder could kindly stop interrupting my creative process, that would be appreciated. Until then, I will be behind the books, working remotely.

Meow Meow

Hazel plays with the editor's blood pressure like a yoyo. He sits in the middle of the road and meows to get her attention. Then he enjoys watching the yoyo.

Meow

I'm preparing a delicious book, which I plan to publish on June 15. 🐾

Meow Meow

I haven't seen Pasha since yesterday. I don't want to be a mother who controls her adult son, but I wish he would check in regularly. On the other hand, watching the editor look out the window and open the door to shout his name a million times a day gives me great pleasure. I can tell she's getting nervous. He is, after all, her "big baby" and her "black panther"... 🐾

Meow

My sons take after me. Pasha and Rumi enjoy spending their days on the roof. I remember when I used to be up there every day. Now I prefer naps. 

Meow Meow

When the editor takes the dogs out for a walk, my mini majesties follow them like it's their job... because it is. They need to make sure the editor and the dogs don't do anything they're not supposed to do.

Meow

My son Hazel was recently ambushed by a most uncivilized creature. Naturally, he survived:  He is my son, after all. The editor has been fussing over him nonstop, which I suppose is acceptable… though he was already quite magnificently spoiled. 

As you can see, he is healing beautifully. In fact, today he demanded a walk. He is brave and dramatic. Clearly, he takes after me.