So I was coming home from my mom's house and I had to bring the cat home. The cat was on a kitty vacation at the cat equivalent to kitty club med. No, we didn't leave her at a kennel. We left her with my parents who spoiled her rotten. She was fed treats multiple times a day, allowed to drink from the bathroom faucet and was entertained with kitty toys. No wonder she didn't enjoy the trip home.
I don't mind driving with the cat, but she's rather picky about music. She doesn't like oldies music. She doesn't like modern rock, but boy does she love Madonna. I guess she really is my kind of cat.
Further proof: she hates Neil Diamond.
Or maybe I'm wrong, perhaps she was actually singing along?
Ack
GG
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Now really . . . The Divine Miss M provided all kinds of kitty entertainment at the Casa de Feline Resort and Spa . . . she was eager to greet us whenever we arrived - and clambered up on the covers to lick our chins and fingers at 6 a.m. until we got up and provided kitty treats. She provided kitty acrobatics and played "Give me a Treat or the Little Man Dies" by attacking 3 winnie-the-poohs and a troll in the bookcase.
Honestly, we already miss her - and she's only been gone a few short hours.
How does the kitty show its distaste for oldies? Clawing around your seats? Hanging from the ceiling? Grabbing th steering wheel?
Em - here, kitty kitty -
Came home this morning after a walk on the levee and told Mr. L - don't let the cat out - when we opened the door.
House is awfully quiet now that nobody meows as soon as you come home . . .
Or rubs against your leg - or leads you to the Treats - or gives you a truly pitying look when you pretend you don't know she wants the treats, sort of like "These idiot humans, they just don't understand me at all."
Give the kitty a pat for me . . .
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