In this episode of House Cats of Central Ohio, we find spurned, long time lover Sookie sulking. Miles seems to have thrown her over for the younger and more formally dressed Olivia Wigglebothum. Rumor has it that Olivia gives as good as she gets in the grooming department.
Whatever cat fight is brewing, Miles will sleep through it.
In a twist of blackmail, back stabbing, and faked evil twins, Sookie has a plan!
The Wigglebothum is out. Sookie has resumed her deserved place.
On the next episode of House Cats of Central Ohio, Miles finds himself trapped like a CATerpillarby one of his jealous loves.
Will he metamorphosis? Will he fly?
It starts out innocently enough. Cuddle up on the new favorite blanket. Knead my leg. Draw some blood. Same old, same old.
Then I pick up a pen to write and all hell breaks loose.
This one also thinks she’s helping
Two Targets and a website search later, I could not provide my children with the Cardboard Haunted Mansion for cats. The Target employee who helped me said they suddenly started selling out. I blame it on the number of articles I’ve seen about the house.
However Target #2 did have a small in the lion mane I’ve been eyeing.
It has a certain rock star quality. I feel like Miles is channeling 80’s Bon Jovi. Side eye and snarrrrrrl.
Look at that hair toss!
He hates it, but I think he hates Olivia’s photo bomb more. Indignant!
Not to be left out, The Wigglebothum brings her dance moves to the stage.
Sookie also wore the wig, but her photo was just too sad to share. It’s like I broke a part of her heart.
Because my cats are nothing if not trend makers and followers.
This alien creature and her antennae.
I should be folding the laundry in the background, but I’m clearly busy. Chin scritches outrank laundry.
Bought a small catnip pillow on Saturday at a craft thing. Forgot it in my purse.
This morning, I found my purse on the counter ransacked. Slobbery wet catnip pillow on floor.
I think I know who to blame.
Lazy Labor Day post, but maybe this is all we need. The Wigglebothum losing it over a toy. Why she insists on using the stool, I am not at liberty to say.
We’re sorry, Robert Burns. We hope you liked cats.
Such a temper in thy breastie,
Wee, fanged, fiercesome beastie.
Wad that I should rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ string an’ feather.