Psst.......shhh Juno here again. She, that two legged slave, still hasn't figured out my paws can type. She also hasn't seen me do karate or play the accordian. She thinks I am weak and foolish, because I am getting so fat and have these tiny little back legs. I also lick all the fur off one leg to make her think I am neurotic.
Last year we (trust me I had nothing to do with it) adopted another cat. Everyone thinks she is so cute and cuddly. They talk about how sweet she is, how she purrs all the time. They think she is wonderful, because she greets everyone at the door. What is wrong with saying hello from under the bed? I keep trying to convince this interloper she would be happy somewhere else. On Wednesday morning I told that OTHER cat how to get to the giant field of catnip. I told her she would have to walk for a full day through woods and stream, but when she got there it would amazing. I told her it was surrounded by endless bowls of food and bins of wonderful cat toys. She set off immediately.
I decided to really play it up. The last two nights I slept on her spot on the bed. I let myself be picked up for a minute. I even made myself sit by the bathtub while my "owner" relaxed in the water. I let her pet me even though she was wet and smelled like eucalytus. Things were really looking up for me, I was King Cat again. I haven't had to share my cat food or treats. My litter box doesn't smell like girl pee. The big dog dunderhead is back to following me around. All is right in my universe.
Seven o' clock this morning we were rudely woken up by a flock of black birds or crows. Those dratted birds were making the biggest racket, as soon as they stopped we heard a little meow on the porch. Damned if that little cat hadn't returned. I had to go outside while my caretaker fussed and fawned over the tiny show-stealer. I will just have to come up with another plan.