I'm back. I hope you haven't forgotten me. I've been filling out quite nicely, eating lots of whatever the silly Humans will give me. Waddle, waddle. I have toys hidden all over this place, a reasonably clean litter box, and a couple of walking warm spots at my beck and call. The Humans tell me I have it good.
Hum....I don't think so. There aren't any mice here.
The Humans have erected some sort of shrine. It looks like something that should be outside and something I'm sure I must have climbed in a previous life. The female spent hours decorating my den and put what she called "orny mentz" on the shrine.
Ahem...that's "ornaments", and it's Christmas time. The humans deck the halls.
Here is their shrine. It looks like a tree with snow on it.
Whatever. Those things are shiny and they move. They must be my toys. The Humans give me the stink eye if I even think about looking at their shrine. Pffft. I will show them. If it's the last thing I do (and it might be), I vow to destroy that shrine bit by bit while they sleep.
Now THIS is more like it.
These decorative critters are closer to my size.
Whoa! There's my toy mouse on the floor. Cool!
OK. Let's move on. The sleeping conditions around here are pretty darn good. Thicker and more cuddly cushy things have appeared on my bed and the walking warm spots have grown accustomed to me using their limbs as pillows. Oh yeah. They have their own pillows. I like those, too.
When the female gets up in the mornings, I'm still cold so I like to stay in the warm place she's abandoned. Today, she tried to kill me. I was in my cave and she tried to smother me with the cushy things. Sigh. I showed her. I was a BIG, SCARY, ROARING (ok, squeaking) BEAST reaching my paw out from the cave and swatting her.
Oreo, she was just trying to make the bed. She didn't know you remained in the warm place. You tricked her.
See. There's my cave!
The humans have told me that Santa may bring me something for Christmas if I'm a good kitty.
Well, I guess this Santa will have a lighter load around here this year.