The A-Team: Murdock, Hannibal, and B.A.

As usual, Face's earlier reconnaissance work had given the team the intel they needed to execute their plan. His disguise still in place, Face had been inside the house attending the lavish party for over an hour, mixing with the guests, and creating a well-timed distraction. Hannibal, in the guise of a valet, sat calmly by the green door, waiting for Face's signal, and positioning the rest of his team for their tactical strike. On Hannibal's orders, B.A. had abandoned his sniper position in the tree, his laser eyes initiating their charge cycle.

B.A. always supplied the brute force for these operations, this time being no exception. Face had hoped to conceal B.A.'s brutishness by dressing him in a fine black suit, complete with white ascot and french cuffs. The ruse was effective. Now out of the tree, no one suspected that B.A. was anything more than a late arriving party goer. Murdock's peculiar manner wasn't so easy to conceal though.

Labeled as "adjudicated mentally defective" years ago by a military tribunal, Murdock was the team's wild card. On this mission, as with all the others, Murdock's insanity wouldn't hold the team back, but instead be used to their advantage. He sat nestled under a picnic table in full camouflage, ready to loudly cough up a hair ball, climb someone's pant leg, or provide whatever other distraction the team might need if things went awry.

With B.A.'s and Hannibal's lasers now almost fully charged and Murdock's hair ball at the ready, the team was bristling with anticipation of their impending maneuver. But they hadn't received Face's signal yet...

...Amidst the revelry, Face reclined on a long divan, his tuxedo shirt unbuttoned, enjoying a plate of shrimp. He had forgotten about the rest of his team after his fourth glass of vintage sparkling milk, which someone had spiked with catnip.

Buddha

In a well-worn spot, on the west side of an evergreen, sat Buddha kitty.  His squinting eyes and cherubic face were as much a reaction to spring's sunny return as they were an expression of his fluffy enlightenment.

With a well-manicured coat and a bulbous body, Buddha kitty was blessed with loving providers.  We yearned to run our fingers through his velvety chub.  But a dense crop of ivy made approaching him impossible, and our affectionate calls didn't entice him any closer to us.  Buddha kitty's message was clear.  You do not approach enlightenment or summon it to you; you either are the Buddha or you are not.

Fearful Mr. Alley

With quiet stealth, honed from years of capturing rats and avoiding Humane Society traps, Mr. Alley camouflaged himself amongst the rotting wet leaves of winter's retreat.  Little more than a fluffy shadow among the debris, Mr. Alley had seen the camera well before it saw him.  His bird-catching prowess never failed to fill his belly, leaving him no need for human contact.  With approaching footsteps rhythmically intruding upon his gloomy lair, Mr. Alley skittered away like a furry wisp on a wind of fear.

Dusty

Our first vision of Dusty was of him gallantly staring down a puny ratdog and tolerating a hoard of pedestrians.  We thought immediately that he must be a weathered and street savvy fellow.  True to our expectations, Dusty wasn't at all scared by our petting or even the accidental camera flash in his eyes.  Like the street urchin that he was, he had a fine dusty patina and what appeared to be only 2/3 of a tail.  He was collarless, grimy, and maybe a bit flea ridden.  But we let him be, because he seemed to have a full belly and high spirits.

Prince Fuzzy

This afternoon we went for a walk down 100 South, a street infamous for random kitty sightings.  Today's conditions were perfect kitty weather.  Sure enough, we found one.  Prince Fuzzy surveyed his dominion with a weighty air of authority far exceeding his eight fuzz-covered pounds.  Even camera clicks and kissy lip sounds didn't distract him from his regal perch.  He was the overlord of fuzziness, and we were his diminutive subjects.