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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. 

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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.

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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.

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This fabulous feline is now working on her masterpiece number eight.

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I, Pishi Pooch, seasoned traveler of nine lives, extend my most distinguished wishes to my dearest Persian darlings. May your days be lined with golden sunlight, your bowls generously filled, and your humans unusually obedient. Happy Nowruz!

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GT6C9P95 

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