Cowboy Kitty

I believe that Little Dude would make a most excellent cowboy. He was sitting at the counter on a bar stool (he knows there's a restraining order against cats physically being ON the counter, but they can be AT the counter, though I'm pretty sure they violate that each night while we sleep). I was fixing dinner and he was silently watching, and I could just tell by the look in his eye that he wanted to be a cowboy. By this time, I wanted it probably just as much (or maybe even more so) than he did. I started imagining (out loud, since Justin was there and he certainly agreed) how amazing it would be to turn around and see a Little Dude Cowboy sitting on the stool with a 0.25-gallon hat, vest, chaps, spurs, and boots. I imagine he would develop a cowboy accent and then Justin would create his very own, very attractive, paw-sized derringer & holster so as to protect us from any wayward varmints trying to sneak by (especially the two who live in the laundry room). Ultimately, though, the dreaming revealed all of the inherent planning flaws (i.e. he would probably spur someone at the food trough and I can't verify that chaps allow for peeing) but for just a moment, the dream alone was enough for both of us.