January 29th 2009 10:20 pm
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Today, probably for the first time ever, I am Tired Out.
I believe I was annoying my mother (I don't know why, I was only making her leather jacket look more rugged), and she asked me where I'd put my wonton. Papa made them for me out of the little bits left over on his skeins, and Mama put a string on one of them; but, while she was distracted and not holding the all-important Other End, I walked off with it and stashed it behind the Post of Violent Scratchings. Naturally, I pretended I didn't understand Human Language when she asked.
She headed over to the Tiny Room of Stuff I'm Not Allowed In and pulled out--joy!!--my Feather Stick.
All my ultra-cool feline inhibitions were stripped away in the face of the Feather Stick's hypnotic power, and she put me up on the futon so I didn't run into things and break them or hurt myself (she says I'm accident prone, though I firmly believe things should just stay out of my way). And, O, how I chased that feather! It ran me a merry chase, but I got it. Several times, in fact. As flappy as it might be, it is no match for my Super-Awesome-Paw-Strike! It played possum a few times and managed to escape my pointy clutches, but I paid it back. Big time.
After an eternity, I was stumped by the Feather Stick's indefatigability (is that a word? I'm making it one). It was utterly unceasing! I was not quite defeated, as I had one paw keeping it from escape, but alas! I could not stop the panting.
Mother had pity on me, and carried me to my water bowl. I repaid her by looking disgusted; I could have walked just fine, and now I have Human Mom smell all over me. Ugh. I stared her down, but I sneaked a few sips while her back was turned. I don't think she noticed. Bwahahahaha!
As she put the Feather Stick back in the Tiny Room of Stuff I'm Not Allowed In, I put a paw-fist into the air and vowed: Next time, you putrid feather! Next time, you'll rue the day!!
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