Just a Hair’s Breath

Mister Smitty is generous with his hairs!

Just give him a pet (or a pat) …

(or should we say a gender-neutral fondling)

… and you’ll/one’ll/he-she-shir’ll shall surely find themselves full of white fluff from The Smee’s hairy back, bum, head, nether regions, et al.

These hairs float off slowly, wraith-like, fluffy et ceteras, like the flickering evanescent  letters of this blog, the forgotten key-strokes, mouse-clicks, tick-tocks, heart-beats, yea, the great globs (of hair) themselves, and leave not a (nice) rack behind...

We card such fluff as The Smee has made us (and our little Smee is rounded by a sleep).

All Ears, part II: Screech & Sniff

The fight to #SavetheSmee’sEars ticked up a step in intensity today when The Smee exercised his “sassy” tactics vis-a-vis the Vet.

“I don’t care if you’re all medical and officialicious with your white coats, you ain’t takin’ my ears!”

(said The Smee with his eyes).

“I got my own white coat, see?” he added. “I’ll do my own doctoring and vetting myself!”

(said The Smee in his inimitable Paw’n Screech language).

Sassed within an inch of their patience, the non non-plussed vets relented, backed off the knife, and The Smee’s ears went on to live another day.