Our new babysitter

Apparently we need a babysitter. Mom & Dad have no faith in our ability to look after the house when they're out. Jeesh. I AM "the Hammer".....whoever heard of an assasin needing a babysitter? An insult to cats everywhere, that's what this is.

Her name is "Sally". She lives in a little white box that sits in the living room behind a chair. When she speaks, her voice fills the whole house....LOUD would be an understatement. I've tried to see what she looks like through the little holes in the one end of the box, but I wouldn't advise having your ears too close when she screams..... Mom & Dad hauled me up on top of the piano just to see if "Sally" could see me from there. They were just setting me up for her to scream at me, I know it. Got Mom good, I did, scrambling up her chest and over her shoulder. Mom won't be wearing a v-neck for a while....I think those scratches will take a while to heal. What I can't figure out is if "Sally" lives in the little white box on the floor, how can she "see" me from the window in the other little white box in the corner near the ceiling? Can she be in two places at once? Maybe she's having an "out of box experience"......

The good news is she can't see me in the family room....and that's where all the yummy plants live. Heh heh heh......

~Guenwhyvar

Mommy & Me: The love-hate relationship

I like to sit on Mom's lap when she's on the computer, one leg folded up, making a nice little hollow place for me to sprawl out in. It's warm, and I like the clack of the keys- it's soothing. I hate the keyboard tray, especially when I get it in the back of the head if she shifts positions too fast. You'd think she'd be a little more careful. You'd think she'd treasure these moments that I so graciously grant her. Meh.....I'll just play "hide the hairball" later. Ahh, sweet revenge.

Right now Mom & me are in negotiations regarding the sun-room. She says it's still too cold to open it up, but I know better. It's only too cold for those silly non-fur wearing humans. My passive-agressive stance of a hunger strike camped out in front of the door was to no avail. I fell asleep and my stomach was my undoing- the bith served toona. An offer I couldn't refuse. So this morning I tried screaming. Loud, incessant mewls and howls. It got me a window for 15 minutes, but no sunroom. And so the negotiations continue.

I'm really a daddy's girl. I know he loves my wet nose prints on his shirt. His face makes a great grooming tool, unless Mom makes him shave- the bith. Who told her she had any say in the matter? I could spend hours cuddling with Dad. Unfortunately, he is a bit lacking in the feedbag department- hence the necessity to keep Mom around. Plus all the other crucial jobs, gak cleanup, poopy bum, medical triage..........I guess Mom's not so bad. That's why I throw her a bone every once in a while. On the other hand, Grandma's an entirely different story.....

Mom's gonna freak when she sees the lovely white hairs I've left in the keyboard, and the noseprints on the monitor..........but I'm cute. It works every time. Beauty opens all doors, except of course, the sunroom.

~Callie