The girls took me & Nestlé to what Thelma calls "the hippie church" in the neighborhood for the Blessing of the Animals last weekend. A priest threw holy water on me two years ago during a celebration of St. Francis of Assisi, so I didn't need this blessing; Nestlé was the only heathen in the house. I guess they brought me too so I wouldn't feel left out. It's not like I *needed* another blessing. Just so you understand.
This time the man in the white robe didn't throw water on us; he bent down and hugged each of us and gave us individual blessings. I liked that. But Nestlé was totally embarrassing and actually stood on his scarf w/her 2 front paws when he bent over to bless her. (I think she believed she was blessing him back.)
I was annoyed b/c they wouldn't let me get close to this turtle someone brought. It didn't bark or move or anything and I didn't understand it. Apparently it's a variety of turtle that's normally used for soup in Asia. Nestlé got close enough to sniff it, but Louise got all worried and yanked her back, saying it would have been terrible had he been saved from being someone's dinner half a world away, only to be gnawed to death by a dog in Brooklyn.
It didn't smell at all soup-y.
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