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Miss Gilda Spots it All

Just another manic Monday

Well, it's Monday and Mom and Dad are off to work. Today's entertainment is provided by Torii, who's decided the peonies mom brought home from the farmers market are the most delicious treat ever and he must have them. He's been prowling around the house making his little crabby noises all day.

The flowers are on top of Mom's bureau, and then on top of her jewelry box. First of all, there's no way Torii can jump up to the bureau. It's too high; he's too tubby. Secondly, Mom has so much junk up there, there's no room for his big keister anyhow. And lastly... okay, I don't have a lastly, but I wish he'd cut it out. It's annoying.

Also, I wish Mom and Dad would realize that there are only certain parts of my canned food that I want, and they should just throw away the rest. I mean, that stuff's yucky after it's been refrigerated, so just don't even bother. Spoon me out my serving and throw the rest of the can away. And my serving should only include the *top* layer of food, where all the yummy oil has collected. And I only want to eat it in my porcelain fishy bowl, and you have to mash the food up, then arrange it in the center of the bowl like a little cake. Thank you.

Oh, Brothers

I don't really like to get out of my soft cozy bed, but Bertie's being extra-annoying today. The bird feeder is empty, so there's not much entertainment at the front window. Usually he'll sit there watching birds until he gets tuckered out, then he falls asleep right there on the CD cabinet. I have to say, it's pretty cute.

Anyhow, since there's not much of a bird show today, he's running all over the house, yipping and jumping on things. Now Torii can't sleep, and he's being all pesky, too, knocking over the garbage can and pounding on the attic door. I figured this is as good a time as any to start my diary. The office is quiet and warm.

I've been living with Daddy for about eight years. Mommy just moved in two years ago. We make a nice little family. (If it weren't for those stupid brothers). Daddy scritches my chin and calls me Miss Gilda Kitty, like a gentleman should, and Mommy sits still so I can nap on her lap.

Mommy and I do a lot of things together. When she first moved in, we learned to knit. I read the book to her while she worked the sticks and the string. We're getting pretty good at it. I sit in her lap and let her know if she's doing something wrong by batting at her yarn or taking a good chomp at one of her wooden needles.

Mostly I just like to nap, though. Speaking of naps ... yawn ....