Sloppy Seconds

Mister Smitty likes sloppy seconds!

If the Smee can get one of those (hopelessly interchangeable) Misters to scratch/comb/brush him of a morning…

… Why not try for two?

When the second Mister then appears of a morning, he too is addressed in the same shamelessly insistent way with regards to dermal stimulation (see previous post, viz. passim, Q.E.D.).

Who is the wiser (besides Misters (who endlessly update each other on the Smee’s movements) and you, dear reader(s?))?


Merry Christmas, Mister Smee!!!

Dolts!

Mornings, whichever Mister is first to gain the porch, it is to him that the Smee repairs for scratching, combing, brushing, etc.
A light (figure eight) weave of the Mister’s legs usually makes the message clear.
But sometimes a Mister is a dolt. In these cases, the Smee stretches out on the sea grass mat and claws it like a housewife grabbing madly at the 50% off table in Filene’s basement (as we used to say in the Northeast).
This clawing, like a raindance, is supposed to remind the doltish gods by imitating the requested combing action. This “dumbshow” refers both to the action of miming and the idiotic audience trying to be reached.

“Oh. You want to be scratched?”

Duh.

A Shiner

Mister Smitty is a shiny smitty!

Mister Smitty’s coat (of not so many colors) shines mightily i’ the sun. His topmost hairs look translucent, almost clear. They ride lightly on his back, raying out like the long quills of peacock feathers (especially after he’s been combed and scratched repeatedly by one of those misters.

“Hard to tell ‘em apart. Just comb me!”

Daily Sched’ Part III: Graveyard shift

Mister Smee departs in the 11th hour!

The Smitty’s late-night hi-jinks are the subject of much debate. Infrared nightvision laser UV photography reveals him often on duty on the western wall, attentive to small avocado-seeking creatures. Some nights he can be found in his pre-dawn spot (office chair, waiting for sunrise) as early as 3 AM.

But he is never talkative about an empty food dish until daylight finds a sleepless mister up and aboot. Only then does a single plaintive cry ring out for food!