Breaking Cat News by Georgia Dunn for April 15, 2016

Poor distraught Lupin! The background music here should be “Felines… nothing more than felines… whoa-oh-oh felines…”

Love panel 5!

Elvis’s expression in panel three is hysterical. I get that same look from my Maine Coon when he thinks it’s dinner time and I tell him it’s not

“I don’t know why I…?” When did we bring politicians into this?!

Lol, i love playing spot the robber mice in the camera one above shot.

And thanks to the brilliance of Georgia and her boys i now find that OH MY CAT is my new favourite saying when things go wrong.

Oh My Cat! : D

been there – sort of had this happen..

Georgia said this was almost a true story back when it first appeared only she managed to grab Lupin just in time.

Well, at least it wasn’t intentional Lupin. Hold that thought when questioned by the man or woman.

That’s my Weimaraner every time I paint. He’ll lean on whatever I’m painting than go lay on the bed when I’m not paying attention. It took me twice to figure out to put a drop clothe on the bed whenever I paint anything, inside or out. Thanks buddy.

“I don’t even like paint.” makes sense if you remember how cats clean paws. Funny as hell.

I, too, love the Camera one shot of the living room showing the robber mice and Buzzy Mouse plus Lupin’s path through the living room. Then Lupin’s plaintive wail “I don’t know why I do this stuff!” is the topper.

Next strip will be Lupin gets a bath….

I love the cute little rats, sleeping on a pillow and having a people food snack.I have had pet rats for a long time.

Oh, SHADES OF MY GUILTY CHILDHOOD! True story:At the age when girls are horse-crazy I had a best friend who was as horse-crazy as I was. One summer afternoon we went in search of places (in our suburban area) where we could stable our longed-for horses on the cheap. Lo and behold, we came across a “field camp”, a lean-to for sheltering horses, in the middle of nowhere. We investigated and found it populated by at least one white pony. A beautiful little creature with a coat like ermine.

I didn’t discover that someone had just painted the lean-to until, after wrapping my hand around the stall-post as I admired the pony, I laid that hand gently on the ermine-coated pony’s rump, leaving what looked like an Indian brand of my handprint in vivid green on the snowy field of the pony’s rump.

With Lupin I say, “I DON’T KNOW WHY I DO THESE THINGS!!!!”

(I do sometimes wonder what the owner made of the mysterious handprint appearing out of nowhere on their beautiful pony.)

Sorry, one more true animals-and-paint story: One of my earliest childhood memories: We lived at one point in a little townhouse in Denver while my father was training at UAL. My parents had decided to paint something coral. We also had two neighborhood dogs who used to visit us, a Dalmatian, who would sit and read the funny papers with my brother; and a Scottie who kept my mother company in the kitchen. Which is where the open paint was. Scottie took it into his head to investigate and the next thing I remember is that Scottie and I were embroiled somehow (I was three-ish)and tracking coral paint everywhere. Mother erupts, father arrives home, brouhaha ensues, memory fades to black. I woke up next morning, still feeling in disgrace, and it looked like they had painted EVERYTHING coral. OK; done now.