Happy Thanksgiving. People talk about their wacky family traditions, football, that time Cousin Elmer burnt down the garage deep frying a turkey – I don’t know. About ten years ago, I decided Thanksgiving is much more betterer spent at home and quiet because drunk drivers, screaming children and What Am I Eating? do not make me thankful. So. Pete’s gone out for bagels. Conscious of my inexplicable good fortune, I’m going to get up and pat down a big bird. Then I’m going to defend it with my life from three professionally curious cats. It’s quirky but what’s a little violence on a day based on it and food, eh? But there is one Thanksgiving ritual we can all, great or small, appreciate: a bath.
In the next picture, Panky is properly sauced.