Are you the kingly tortoise tiger about whom I have heard—the one with a proclivity for procacity, whether it be via stealing kibble from a grumpiest mad dog or bestowing upon mum a still-croaking frog?

Well, my little fearless feline, clearly your love language revolves around gifts to get and gifts to give, so here is an embrace for your adorable face and if you heed more humility—lots—*you* may massage my hard-to-reach spots. ; )

Hugh of the queue thought, “Wee, this looks like a decent lea!”

Becks of the long-necks quipped querimony: “These tracks dispense the most inedible snacks!”

Jean of the in-between noted, “I have seen better grain whence there was more rain.”

Peter, the least picky eater, mused, “As a giraffe, I deem this roughage at least worth a lick and a laugh.”

Maddy—as optimistic as here daddy—chimed, “Woo-hoo! We can chew-chew while we watch the choo-choo!” ; )

Mimi’s gentleman had—she admitted, quite decently—arrived just a handful of minutes before their agreed rendezvous time, buzzing his arrival just as she was up-touching final fancies, so, in a moment of instinctual automacy, she pinched her undersized towel into a makeshift chlamys with one hand before skipping to the door, where she, with free fingers, turned knob and cracked the door just enough to greet her date with an apologetically charming smile—before welcoming him inside, where his fleeting view of less vanished from thought a few minutes later, when his lady returned of pulchritude in full dress. ; )

As my pal in sight,

A gemmed pallasite—

Uplifted like kite

By less dark of night

In more warmth by light—

Secured in trust tight,

With ewe, I just might—

Feel quite more alright. ; )

Excuse me, mum, but it is not your biz to delay generosity

Regarding your unfounded concerns about my tumbly’s gibbosity.

Furthermore, your grin as a spin above false claims of pocket paucity

Merits—I must warn you—the full force of terrier-bull ferocity. ; )