It's been funny watching the Tank and Mr Fuzzpants
roll through the bathroom/kitchen redo and the
seasonal whirl of workshops.
The Tank, my previously antagonistic main kitty man,
has rolled through the spates of craziness with a zen
calm. He sleeps where he can, finds sunbeams where
they land, even if it's in on the collage supplies during
a workshop, and reacts with cool aplomb when confined
to the upstairs bathroom/prison.
Mr Fuzzypants is the one who growls now at the trucks
that drive slowly down the street, or cries piteously
when even momentarily caught in a room.
I haven't decided if The Tank is continuing to mellow,
or if he is bowing to the pressure to cool in comparison
to his more spastic younger companion. I'm sure I heard
him saying "Brace up!" to Mr Fuzzypants the other day.
Either way, I'm glad he's found his element.
