Maladaptive Kitties

OK. So we’ve had a few problems adapting to this Wisconsin wonderland farmhouse thing. Events got out of paw...

Duh. We are urban kitties.

We blow off steam by shredding opponents, whether in an urban alley or Russian Parliament. Shred. Opponents. That's the kind of people we are.

 (BTW....this last one was not our fault.)

And to further illustrate how much hell The Little Kings and Queens have endured trying to adapt, the typical paw-to-paw skirmishes escalated into 

• An Intentional Butt-Biting Incident
• An Unfortunate Mouse Suicide (well, really, it was Mouseslaughter), and 
• An Outright Mouse Homocide 

Needless to say, Tibby was involved in all three events (with her Butt ending up on the wrong side of the first Incident...ha ha...I mean, unfortunately for her.)

Somebuddy help...we've been catnapped!

No one asked me (or any of the other Fat Kings & Queens of Werner & Kinney) whether we wanted to move. By the time we finally figured it out, it was too late. Our human housemate (she threatened to take away my laptop privileges if I called her the Servant again...)....She stuffed us all--like furry sardines--into the silver Hondy thing and took off to Wisconsin! Catnapper! Sure, whatever makes YOU happy!

As if the ride wasn't bad enough (with Tibby yowling for 8 hours, 13 minutes, and 2 seconds), the windows in the new place are all in the wrong places, the toilets have no little hidey covers over them, and it’s so cobwebby here I feel like a giant dust bunny! And you know I am not a complainer!

All I can say is, if I had opposable thumbs, a driver's license, and my own cell phone, things would be different. 

Let's Get This Over With

Look. I have a load of things to deal with today other than entertain you--I haven't even harassed The Servant into providing me with hand-fed crunchies yet. She's off schedule again!

It's hard running a household. Most people (non-feline of course) have no idea how stressful fur-licking, sprawled-out napping, and servant "persuading" can be (among other things)! It can take me up to 20 minutes of human leg biting to get someone to properly groom me. It would help if they spoke the same language, but you and I won't have that problem. (Will we?)

Whatever. Come back soon, and I'll try to entertain you by imparting some shining pearls of kitty wisdom.

Puffy Daddy