Syria wants to destroy us and my cat is not fat
Hmmm, the two major things I want to talk about are fighting it out to be first. Like any good news person (heh) I will give the hard news first and the happy feel-good news last --at least my cat is feeling good about it.
So, on the news front, Assad spoke about Syria's support of Hezbollah and noted ""This resistance is a medal to pin on the chest of every Arab citizen, not only Syria." He went on to say that ""We tell them [Israelis] that after tasting humiliation in the latest battles, your weapons are not going to protect you - not your planes, or missiles or even your nuclear bombs... The future generations in the Arab world will find a way to defeat Israel."
The German Foreign Minister Frank-Walter Steinmeier cancelled his trip to Syria after that speech and said, the speech was a "negative contribution that is not in any way justified in view of the current challenges and opportunities in the Middle East. Syria can gain back the confidence of the international community it has lost with positive and constructive action - and on that basis pursue its legitimate interests. The speech today... goes in the opposite direction."
Hezbollah is still not disarming and now the Lebanese govt is trying to work out some deal where Hezbollah gets to keep all their weapons in Southern Lebanon: they just have to keep them out of sight. Uhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhh.
Now on to the fat cat that isn't. My cat Mischa looks more like a panther than a cat. For one thing he is black but mostly it is because he is BIG. Really, really big. Back when I had Pandy the two black beasts were affectionaly called Fatty 1 (Mischa) and Fatty 2. Several people who have visited my apartment commented that Mischa is not a cat, he is more like a small horse. Yeah, that kinda sums it up. And he's gotten even bigger lately. The fact that he is like Alice in Wonderland after she nibbles on the Eat-me cookie and grows and grows despite being on a strict diet cat-food (and not a lot of it), along with a nagging cough he's had for the last month spurred me to
He was given every test known to cat-kind. He was examined by not one, but two vets. Heart checked, blood tested, biometric stuff done for fat-to-muscle ratios, weighed, poked and prodded. The answer: well he does weight 9.5 kilos (21 pounds) but it ain't fat. It is muscle. He is just a very big boy. In fact, he should be eating more than I'm giving him cos he has too much muscle to fat (ACK). Why is he coughing? Hairballs. He is a shedder (oy va voy, you are telling me) and being that it is hot he is shedding apace and licking himself into hack hack (ulp) worry-your-mother space. And can you believe that when I got him he fit entirely, from ears to tip of tail, in my hand? No, no I can't believe it either. He gets a bigger dinner tonight but I ain't ever moving houses again cos it will take a crane to get him out of here.