My parents both have their birthday in August so we had ice cream cake. We don’t know why, but this afternoon Kitten Thunder decided my dad was the soft target. They both sat at his feet, watching and waiting for him to share, while three of us ate without a mooch. Perhaps they thought he should get to share since today is his birthday.
I hurt Oliver’s feelings this morning. He pestered and pestered in the early morning until I broke down and fed him. But then he kept on pestering. When I finally got up he was excitedly leading me toward the stairs. I snapped:
“I am perfectly aware that I fed you already, young man, and you’ve probably conned your grandmother into feeding you as well.”
Oli looked stricken. He dropped his tail and went back to the chair to lay down. Then I got downstairs and found out he hadn’t been down to see my mom at all. No conning.
I went up and got him. He’s quick to forgive.
Oliver is in a decorative box on the bed in my office right now. Obi is scratching his chin on the outside of the box. A white paw darts out of the box and whaps him in the face. Obi returns the whap. And scratches his chin again.
The grandpeople agree that Thunder Cafe provides some good OutTV.
While watching a squirrel eating seeds on the window sill, my parents suddenly found themselves starring on InTV when the squirrel turned to look in at us.
My dad was fishing for cat-fish, using a leather string to play with Kitten Thunder, when the grey cat-fish showed him why you should keep your feet on the couch while fishing. That cat has claws and thinks toes are tasty.
Oliver has won the battle of the decorative box.
A message to Barb: Operation Buy Something Pretty was successful. Operation Buy a Back-To-School-Outfit was, um, less successful.
My cats don’t (usually) attack feet, but they do sometimes run across them with razor-sharp claws, oblivious to the damage they’ve inflicted.
Yes, Obi Underfoot is a big fan of launching off the foot and using his claws to get extra traction. It’s a good argument for wearing socks…but not a good enough argument to actually get me into socks.
WEIRD! My Poor Ol’ Dad’s birthday was the 21st, too! And Dear Sweet Mama’s is the 27th! Are you SURE we’re not sisters?
My dad would never put kitty litter in the bathtub. But that’s the ONLY way I know for sure that we aren’t, in fact, sisters.
So glad that the “something pretty” reward was finally achieved. You deserve it – big time – for the month of frustration and annoyance. It is, after all, ALL about the reward.
Yes. And having orders to buy something pretty made it a guilt free purchase. Plus, with Mom’s coupons, the skirt and a match tank top cost me $9.52. SUPER SHOPPER!
All of your posts make me realize I need another cat for Esme to play with…but then they would outnumber me, and that might not be such a good idea.