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Feline Musings.

Mouse Hunting Machines

The One Who Feeds Us moved our home base half-way accross the country. There was some temporary lodging at her sister's; it was good because the Man of the House let us outside for hours at a time. In some ways he's pretty smart - he said cats should go out and just opened the door. But in other ways he's not so smart - he said cats don't belong on the table, counters, beds, etc. Hacking up furballs didn't dissuade him, so Pud peed on the floor. Anywhoooo.... we now have a new place, complete with mice. The One Who Feeds Us went away overnight, and was shocked at the amount of blood on the floors, walls, doors, windows (well, okay, not the windows) when she got home.

WE ARE MOUSE HUNTING MACHINES!!!

Travelling again ....

So the One Who Feeds Us says we're travelling again. Seems like that's all we do sometimes. Pud decided to drop so much fur in protest that his legs are going bald. The One Who Feeds Us mentioned a trip to the vet. We'll have to see who looks worse when it's all over. Fur may be falling out, but claws are sharpened and ready to go!

boarding

The One Who Feeds Us, well, she isn't feeding us this ten days. she has subjected us to something called 'boarding' which includes other felines whose owners obviously don't know that there is simply not enough service here. we are wondering how many hair balls need to be hacked up to get this message accross clearly.