July, 2003:
The fabled Byronic Man of ACTION!
--Or not.
Go, Byron, GO! Get that toy mouse in your mighty jaws!
RIP AND TEAR, BYRON! Rip and tear!
I hoped that you liked that EXCITING ACTION, as it's the last you'll get. My digicam took a few pictures, then decided that its battery was low, and refused to take any more when it decided that it was recharged when he was active (that, and the fact that it got busy).
This is him and his teddy, and a mouse and some catnip. Before I swept the catnip away, as customers kept asking me if it was weed.
Note that his eyes are totally grey now. He's as grey as Kill Kill is white.
He's in front of the Lotto scratch tickets. Sorry, Byron, but you're getting fixed, so don't get your hopes up about the word "STUD" by your crotch.
Thanks to the camera, all the rest are of him sleeping. This cardboard tray was supposed to be his litter box (although his foster mom left me no litter). But it became a bed. Apparently, he thinks that "pillow" means "Not the soft box or the teddy but the cold hard counter."
When it came time for a litter box, he cried and then dumped some steaming goop onto some Lotto forms. Hey, I don't like Lotto either, lil' buddy! You'd think that something that small wouldn't have so much poop that was so stinky in him, but I was wrong. Maybe he's eating Iams Refried Beans or something.
He got more conventionally comfy after a while. He hasn't gotten much bigger in the 10 days since I've seen him--note the comparitive size of the pocket calculator!
He'd run around and play and explore, then collapse wherever his gas ran out and sleep. Here he is, collapsed in between the 2 noisiest things in the store, the register and the receipt printer. And I do mean "in between"--he's not on either of them, his weight is resting on the cardboard dividers we put between bottles. Doesn't look all that comfortable to me.