Here at C.O. headquarters, we have a Glossary term called “comfortabuhls.” As in: “I’m soooooo comforabuhls sipping Pinot Noir in my fleece slanket in front of the fire.”

Thanks to this video, there is a new definish for comfortabuhls, and it’s this dog, with his eyes slowly sliding underwater:

Blissful, Jana A.! Also, a Calgon commercial here.

C. O. Decorating Tips

To make a bold yet cuddly statement, try putting some bunnies in a clear crystal bowl. This unusual home accent will make your guests smile with approval.

Meet Jennifer’s housebunnies Pino and Pico!


As ushe, when Brinke G. writes in with an image,e the email title always becomes the title of the posting. This time, the Cal Academy inspired him with the head-only Elephantulus pilicaudus.

Choose Your Own Infinite Cuteness Project Adventure!

It had to happen: After throwing the Infinite Cuteness Project into high gear, we’ve come to a fork in the road.

So the choice is yours: Scarlett, from Mara & Francis…

… or this “cute little muffin” from Heike J.!

…or this final contestant from Annet K.?

It’s Carolyn, Your Local Squirrealtor

Welcome to our open house! This is the perfect starter home for young families: Lovely view, gets morning sun, close to schools and foraging, low cat-crime area…

When do we close escrow, Robyn R.?

Buy. Me. Toys.




Frequent shopper points to Angela C., and Kodie, still thinking inside the box.

And You Call Yourself a Dog?

It’s a dark part of my past. Haven’t touched the Binky in years. Promise.

Amanda R., there’s a support group out there somewhere for Aslan!

Well Would You Look at That

A pig in a blanket.


Brock, you sent us this picture. I do not think it means what you think it means.

And Don’t You Forget It

Orville Poindexter…

…Toilet Plunger Sitting Champion of 1963.

And he’s been there ever since. (gently picks off cobweb)

Sender-Inners Kate and Jeff have the interesting back story here: “So it’s 6 am Friday morning, and we’re sleeping off the Thanksgiving dinner, when we awake to the doggie door flapping and a squeak. This is our occasional wake-up call, unfortunately. Our foster kitty, Rook, is of that just-older-than-a-kitten age, and learning to hunt. She likes to bring in her prey so she can play with it in the comfort of home. We don’t appreciate her gifts, so we always chase them down ourselves, catch them, and release them back outside—they’re usually unharmed, besides being scared.

I get up to find the mouse, and fairly quickly realize that Rook had brought it into the bathroom. This is good. Less places to hide in there. I shoo Rook out of the bathroom and close the door, then go get a tupperware dish to catch it in. When I get back into the bathroom, I look in all the obvious hiding places, but don’t
immediately see it – until I look near the commode. There sits the mouse, not cowering behind the toilet, but up on top of the plunger handle.

I’m glad I got photographic evidence, otherwise I wouldn’t believe it.

Chapter 23, in Which Our Heroes Find Themselves in Grave Peril

With our compass lost in the blizzard, young Wainwright and I gamely vowed to soldier on as best we could. Shouldering our packs, we inched our way down the treacherous cliffs while I attempted to get our bearings by watching the sun. This, however, proved fruitless, as the sun seemed to dart capriciously across the morning sky. Yet it was not the sun that shifted, but ourselves, and it was then I realized we had become marooned on the dreaded… Index Mountains.

Natalie C. alerted us to this story from Zooborns, about the efforts of Marwell Wildlife Park to prevent the extinction of the tiny Partula snail.


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