Evil Strawberry Muffin

So I was in the library, doing a spot of writing, when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked, and there it was, a bug of some sort (closely related to a cockroach by its shape and coloring), crawling remarkably slowly across the rug. Even though it was going about tortoise speed, I didn't get to it in time, so I didn't manage to kill it before it got itself under the sofa.

Well cruds.

I tried to ignore it, but once I know there's a bug in my home, I kind of HAVE to kill it, and I have problems doing things like eating or sleeping until it's gone. Sadly, I didn't feel like moving the stupid sofa only to find that the bug had moved or that I couldn't catch it.

As a sort of tongue-in-cheek move, I opened the doors to my suite, allowing Sugs into the main part of the house. I mean, why not? Any time she finds a bug (that I know of) she yowls for me -- I wouldn't have to find the bug; she would find it for me.

I opened the doors, Sugar trotted out, and I went back to my room to read.

Five minutes later, the yowling began.

Figuring it couldn't POSSIBLY be what I thought, I followed the sound of the yowling, only to find Miss PuddiePants sitting on the dining room rug, staring at a neatly flipped-over but still alive bug. I killed the bug, and all was well.

I swear, I had no idea that my crazy scheme would actually WORK.

So, note to self: Sugar isn't just decorative, she has a talent. Sugar is a Bug Finder.

Who knew?

PS This is the 800th post in this blog. Huzzah!

I woke up this morning to a horrible yowling from She Who Must Be Obeyed. I rocketed out from under the covers like something had exploded, grabbed my glasses, and headed for my beloved pink pet, afraid that the horrible sounds she was making indicated that she'd been poisoned or hurt or that something else extremely horrible had happened. Either that, or it was a bug.

There she was, Madame Pink, sitting in front of the bathroom, staring at the large bug on the carpeting in front of her. Did it move? No. Did she attempt to catch it, eat it, or even nudge it with a paw? No. She just yowled and made other horrible cat sounds while I killed the bug and flushed it.

I am very well trained.

I'm purring REALLY loudly. I'm sure that, if I purr loudly enough, my human won't leave me again.

She's back! She's back! My human is back!

Once again, she left me alone to die. Only a strange lady and her male sometimes came by to feed me and clean my box. It was horrible. I cried and cried, but my human was nowhere to be found.

But then, last night, she came back. True, she brought her mother with her, but I don't really care: she's home, she's here, she's MINE.

I spent much of last night rubbing my newly-reappeared human, and then I curled up with her in bed for a while. And today, o wonder of wonders, she actually left a door open and I got to go out and investigate the outer house. It's a great place, filled with scavengable things and wool rugs of bliss. Of course, I don't want to lose my human again, so when she moves from one end of the house to the other, I follow a few steps behind her. She gets misplaced so easily.

Anyway, life is good. I think I'm going to go visit the kitchen and see if I can find something munchable.

Recently I've been enjoying the occasional lapsit on my human's mother. Granted, she has an annoying habit of touching me, but as long as she doesn't do that, she has nice, warm legs that make a most comfortable perch.

Besides, I get in her way. Annoyance like that can't be bought.

I am currently curling up on these strange shopping bag things that my human's mother has been working on for months. Now that they're finished, they feel really nice on my paws, so I'm thinking that "shopping bag" means "cat bed." Makes sense to me. Anyway, they'd smell better if they were made out of wool, but they're good enough.

Mmmm...good on cat tummies.

Life has been strange recently, my routine disrupted. My human has been in and out far more than usual, and her mother has been in and out far less than usual. There has been a lot of yarn about, and fabric, and other squishy things to sink my paws into, yet the kibble flow doesn't seem to have increased in the slightest.

Strange happenings, I tell you.

I was feeling magnanimous today, so I settled myself onto my human's mother's lap for a long snooze. Granted, this was partially because she was sitting in my human's chair and it took me a second to realize I was on the wrong lap, but hey, I stayed, didn't I?

Well, I stayed until that ungrateful wretch of a biped tossed me off her lap so she could "go to bed."

Grumble. There's a good reason why I don't like that human.

Today included much cuddling, some snoozing, and a lot of running about at top speed like a maniac.

In other words, it was a pretty normal day.

My human says that my head smells like onions. I blame my human's mother, who touched me with her smelly hands.

Humpf.

Luckily, my human doesn't seem to mind. I'm currently on her bed with her, enjoying the mystery of being backlit by the glowing tappy thing. Later I expect to curl up on one of the chairs in the other room for a good nap.

Busy busy busy.