You’ll note that, despite what I said in Friday’s entry, that nothing at all looks the slightest bit different here. That’s because, due to circumstances that are deathly boring to explain – so I won’t – the new design wasn’t installed over the weekend as I’d expected Fred to do. Instead, it’ll be next weekend.
Try to contain your excitement!
You know, I’m just never allowed to have anything nice ’round here. Someone sent us something a few weeks ago, and after I unpacked the box, I put the box (with newspaper in it) on the floor of the kitchen, intending to eventually take it out to the garage on the way to the recycling center. Of course a cat immediately jumped into the box, so OF COURSE I left the box there so that the cats could sleep in it.
All was well for about a week, and then one morning I walked into the kitchen to find that one (or more) cats had pulled some of the newspaper out of the box. I put it back in the box, and it stayed there for a few more days, and then every morning I’d walk into the kitchen and a few sheets of newspaper would be on the floor. I’d put it back, find it pulled back out the next morning, and so on.
Then one evening, the cats got together and had a newspaper-shredding party.
It’s a Bustie in a box!
Corbie, having shredded some newspaper, takes a bath break.
Starsky and Hutch watch Buster (who’s in that box – you can see the end of his tail sticking out.)
Corbie (on top of the box) and Jake (next to the box) watch Starsky kick some newspaper around. Rhyme and Hutch (at the bottom of the picture) join in on the shredding, while Buster stays in the box and minds his own business.
Newspaper: shredded. Kitchen: a mess. Kitties: happy.
When the cats abandoned their shredding project, I tossed all the newspaper into the box and took it out to the garage so that next time I go to the recycling center, it’ll be ready to go.
TAKE THAT, KITTIES!
Stinkerbelle would like you to know that she had nothing to do with the shredding. She’s a good girl.
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Previously
2009: At one point, I had six or seven cats gathered around me, watching in fascination as the plastic dragonfly flapped and flapped.
2008: No entry.
2007: Talk about your come-hither look!
2006: Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats.
2005: “What can I do to convince you to adopt Sugarbutt?”