Oh, lord - he's still here.
Would you believe the housekeeper came by over the weekend just to make sure the priests didn't eat him? She's never here. It's the only time I find peace which was totally wrecked because of this stupid thing.
She calls it a catberry because of the ears. I call it a wuss. Cute, but still a wuss. Because of her showing up on the scene over the weekend, I found myself mostly in Will's bedroom on my windowseat. All that chattering downstairs. You wouldn't believe it.
I already have plans for our little friend should I get my paws on him. I will decimate his seeds, wipe that smug look off his face and eat him, yum, yum, yummm....
Wait a minute! Here's a thought: Why don't I just get him and bat him under the refrigerator? Or, someplace else dark? Then he'll just disappear and nobody'll know where. He'll rot in the dust, ancient crumbs and spilled catnip. I'll have to decide. This is going to be tough.
Meanwhile, I have to face the continuing saga of the catberry, a showoff who is stealing my thunder.
Hark! What now? A photo shoot? Are you kidding me??
Let's change the subject.
Spring is in the air. Or, so they say. If it is, I sure can't see it.
I know I'm being grumpy. Thanks, friends for letting me vent.
Your soon-to-be vegetarian and always holy man,