Weasel loves to be inside, under or on top of anything. Plastic bags are one of her favorite and least safe, but I let her do it anyway. Boxes are good. Inside my bed–as in literally ripped a hole in the box springs and burrowed inside. Closets. Anywhere. We think it stems from being safely (and tightly) crammed under four siblings inside Ralphie’s womb as the runt of the litter and also her little cat complex that makes her overcompensate for her small size by climbing higher than everyone else. See her high atop the refrigerator trying to get Stew to pet her here. It’s worth all 2 minutes. If you’re not down with the online videos I have photo evidence too.
Here she is critiquing my outfit.
And sitting in Lindsday’s purse. We were all sitting around for several hours watching a movie. When I stood up and said, ‘Where’s Weaz?’ she popped out of here.
Sometimes Ralph likes to join in on the fun.
Yes, this is as unsanitary as it looks.
Here she is emerging from my bed. When I had Ralph and all 5 babies I didn’t sleep for weeks because all 6 of them would run around in there from 10pm-1am.
Inside my Glenda the Good Witch Halloween costume.
Ralph at it again.
And just because it’s so damn cute… Weasel as a baby weaz.