Okay, so my plan to blog often hasn't worked well. As odd as it sounds, while my writing at work has gotten much better (thanks to lots of practice and some great editors), I've had writer's block here at home. Sorry to disappoint, but instead of me blogging today, I think I’m going to let the newest member of Apartment 8 say a few words (she’s been begging to try out the keyboard since she moved in in January).
Enjoy y’all,
Brown-eyed girl
Mrrrraow! Hello Internet peoples! Hey, check it out, my meowing turns into English when I use these click things that Ananda’s always hitting. Of course, they don't sound as cool as my claws on a hard wood floor, but few things do.
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| My favorite spot: curled on the back of the couch |
I’m Sherlock, the world’s cutest Calico kitten, and I’m actually Ananda’s boss. That’s right, boss. I know she thinks she’s in charge, but it’s me. I’m a diabolical mastermind and I’ve manipulated her into thinking she’s making her own decisions about me and my welfare. It’s fitting punishment for the auburn-haired person who stuck me in a cage and put me in a big moving box of metal for 5 hours.
It was horrible. I made sure she knew it by meowing frequently and scratching anything that came close to the bars of my prison. Once she let me out….I felt like Dorothy’s “We’re not in Kansas” anymore moment. Of course, being a smart, savvy feline, I’d never be caught talking to a DOG.
I got lost in her huge people-house a few times. Why should the food bowl be allllll the way in the kitchen? I want a food bowl in every room.
[Ananda here: Sherlock, no. I won’t give you a bowl in every room. You eat too much as it is. You're a 6 month old cat and you weigh at least 12 pounds.]
I discovered that when Ananda leaves for the day I can do whatever I want for HOURS. That’s right, I can shed all over the couch, poop on the floor to make sure she remembers how to clean up, dump my food bowl over and make a mess, knock over the trash can, shred all the papers I can get my paws on…it’s a good life.
Of course, if I feel like waiting until she gets home to do all of that….I get treats because she thinks I’ve been good. (Little does she know I’ve planned it. I can refrain from pooping on the floor long enough to get a treat…I do know where the litter box is, I just prefer not to use it.)
Lately, I’ve discovered a new realm of play toys: things in the bathroom. That’s right humans, I can now knock over makeup, jump in that funny persons’ litter box, get stuck in the sink and get lost in a bathtub with the best of them.
[Ananda again: Sherlock, it’s not my fault you’re so fat you FILL UP THE SINK. It’s also not my fault that you think it’s fun to jump in the toilet. I promise you this cat, one of these days you’ll try that and I won’t stop you from falling in. When you’re all wet AND stuck in there…I’m going to laugh and post photos to Facebook].
I also enjoy climbing up the inside of Ananda’s dresser. She can’t find me and I can claw at all of her t-shirts and pajama bottoms. Meow-ha-ha, especially when I get myself “stuck” in there and make her late for work. This neat little trick I discovered after she took me to the vet and they stuck me with things and shaved my beautiful white fur off my stomach. She might think she broke my spirit with the cone-of-shame, but I will have the last meow.
Of course, I can be sweet. I like to snuggle on the couch sometimes, and I like to sneak up behind her then start purring right at her ear. And I’m very helpful when she’s cooking. I show her exactly where to stand by standing there first.
Meow, okay…I’m bored with this clicky thing. Besides, you people aren’t smart enough to fully understand my complex mind anyway. I’m off for a snack… if I look sweet maybe I’ll even get a treat from the person.
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| What? Don't people enjoy curling up on the couch? |
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