Interrupting the chronological flow of earlier cat tales, Binky reports on an occasionally traumatic, but mostly exciting, festive season…
My home seems to have changed quite radically lately, and things still aren’t quite back to normal. There’s still that big inedible plant in one of my rooms, although I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring it, on the whole.
But the most significant change was when almost all of the smells and layout of my rooms differed for a few days, then went back to normal. This change was bookended by my confinement to an exceptionally small room (there was barely space to turn around, let alone swing myself), which moved about a lot in a way that made my ears go funny. I do not like this little room, but my loud, consistent complaints went unheeded by my hoomins.
Still, a bit of adventure never did anycat any harm, and this period seemed to coincide with more, different laps to sit on, and nearly adequate levels of fussing and stroking. I have also had some nice treats lately, and the hoomins got themselves a new toy: a ball with treats in it, that they roll around on the floor for me, until treats fall out. I don’t know why they don’t save themselves the bother, and just feed me directly, but whatever keeps them happy, I suppose.
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