A letter from Oliver:
Hello, peoples of the bloggy world. I am writing this, or having My Girl transcribe it, because it is very important that we stay on the couch.
Earlier today, The Boy was doing things in his office. Since My Girl was sleeping in the couch, Obi and I were free to help him.
This condo for kittehs used to have books all over it and it wasn’t very useful. We like it better this way.
Obi also checked out some drawers and a cabinet The Boy was emptying. The Boy telling my brother he wasn’t actually being super helpful (which is a ridiculous assertion) woke up My Girl.
And that’s when the troubling part of the day started.
My Girl, after I showed her the newly emptied kitteh condo, went into her office and started moving things around. Garbage bags were filled. Recycling bins were taken out, filled, and taken out again.
It was a flurry of activity that means one thing: somebody is coming.
But who!?! The Boy’s office doesn’t need to be cleaned for company. Certainly not the kitteh condo.
Obi looked at me, nervous. I looked back at him.
And I panicked.
I went to My Girl and demanded answers. I got none. I went to The Boy and demanded answers. He told me to get out from underfoot.
I was so upset by what was going on, I somehow ended up in the basement and couldn’t find my people. I had to yell for help.
My Girl called and called and eventually I found her waiting for me at the top of the stairs. She suggested that we go sit for a minute on the couch and calm down.
So here we are, on the couch. If I try, maybe I can keep her here for forever.