Bad Pet

So my pet left her knitting out Saturday morning which is no big deal normally. But it called to me, it beckoned to me, it told me to love it. So I loved it. My pet freaked out, and I mean, she freaked out! She wanted to make me throw up! Crazy! Thank cat goodness she called the vet, which on any other occasion would make me hiss and spit, but the vet told her to just lavish me with attention for 24 hours and NOT make me throw up. Sheesh. So she still left for work despite what the vet said, but she came home three hours early so I forgave her. She got really annoying, whenever I tried to sleep she would throw some food to make me chase it to make sure I wasn't dead, and she kept on picking me up to see if I would squeak. I bit her a lot. She would also spontaneously burst into tears and that was really annoying too. She then left again a few hours later and came home an hour and a half later kinda intoxicated. I was very indignified by this, she was suppose to making sure I'm happy on a continous basis! Though I didn't mind, I actually got a good nap in that time, which was a good thing because that night, she woke up every two hours to check on me! Every two hours! Even when I left the warm bed in order to sleep somewhere else, she came out at six in the morning into the living room to poke me again! Honestly! Thank goodness she left for work the next day, those were not the 24 hours I thought they were going to be. I thought for sure there would at least be tuna. Hmph. So I told her not to leave her knitting out anymore, incase that she thinks that I did it again and goes into the hysterical crying and vet phoning, that can go nowhere good. What a bad pet. Bad bad.

Importance of Exercise

Chuck and I found out today that simple changes in your environment can make a world of difference. My pet moved the big white armchair forward so her friend could sit in it while they played on the GoomeCoobe. This prompted running and spazzing like no other running and spazzing before. Least to say, I now need to have a nap. My pet told us we were being freaks of nature and yelled a lot because the rug wasn't secured to the floor properly. I mean, if she didn't want her glass of water knocked off the table she shouldn't have the table on the rug. And frankly, the rubber duckie had it coming and no, I don't know how he got from the bathtub into the kitchen. Talk to Chuck about that one.

Bite bite

My pirate name is:

Iron Jack Kidd

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

Thanks to Podgy for the link. Grr. bite bite

Kitty Killers of Evil

So I decided to kill some evil today. I told Chuck he could come along. Let me start from the beginning. We had a giant evil silver ball of evil living in the living room. The yumoos were always trying to kill it. They'd sit on it and hit it with their legs but nope, couldn't kill it. Silly yumoos. So this afternoon as Chuck and I were getting in our daily exercise I decided to do what the yumoos could not. Yup. A couple claw slashes later and this ball of evil is nothing but a deflated loser. My pet came in afterwards and was overcome with relief that the ball of evil was dead. Then she obviously went a little crazy with relief because she locked us in the basement for awhile. Insane yumoo. I just wanted to blog this because Chuck is also trying to take credit for the killing, but we all know who the slayer is in this house. My pet is giving us equal credit which upsets me. Where is my can of tuna? Where? Sheesh. Now if I could just get outside and kill that big crow out there. Oh yeah.

My pet is telling me to apologize to Chuck's pet. Why? Did she want to kill it herself? I don't understand.