The same old routine gets boring for the boys. Scratch at my door at 6. Downstairs for anti-furball bites. Watch the Big Cat iron his shirt. Try and catch drips in the laundry sink. Sleep. Big Cat home now. Good! Soft food. Then try and eat some of the Big Cat's food. Get thrown repeatedly on the floor. Slink off into the darkness of the living room. Sleep. Repeat. So to break things up they break things up. Sometimes this involves Rooney trying to get as high up as he can. He tries a delicate tightrope walk between the pictures on top of the piano. This is difficult enough without the Big Cat screaming at you at the top of his lungs. Or you might want to increase the skill required by leaping up onto the mantlepiece in the dark. What are these new curios up here? SMASH!!!
More screaming from the Big Cat. Boy, he screams a lot. He really needs an anger management class. Just trying to sharpen your claws in Casa Big Cat gets him screaming. "No, not there!" Actually, "no, not there" applies to everywhere you want to sharpen your claws these days. The Big Cat is constantly cranky. Once, he gave us tuna fish water from the can. That was nice. Ah, memories.
xxx dad
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