Remember those piggies? Well, those anthros are home again, home again, you know what, and I am turning my back on them for at least 5 minutes. Make that 3, because it’s time for dinner.
The sun was out, the air was warm, the fava beans were beaning, and bammo, a HUGE storm came in just after mama and papa unpacked those suitcases I detest. Even if they spray them with Feliway. They can’t fool me…
Suitcases mean travel and that either means I stay and am disrupted or I go and am disrupted, take your pick. But mama says she feels the same way—if she stays when she wants to go, she’s discombobulated, and if she goes when she really wants to stay, it’s the same discombobulation, to use a technical noun.
Meanwhile, on their first day home, that is today, the electricity went out and there is no hot anything, meaning coffee, in mama’s case, and water for a shower, in papa’s case and of course, for me, it’s great because mama made a huge fire in the fireplace (where else, I ask you? Why do people always say that?) and I can sit on my favorite little couch and warm my tootsies, so for me, current (haha) events are just hunky dory, whatever that means.
Uh, oh, a knock on the door. Maybe it’s The Man Who Fixes Things and I can get back to posting my blog, which of course I cannot do without electricity. I forgot about that. So I guess all three of us are in a pickle, whatever that means.
PS I also peed next to the john, not in it, as I do easily, but I thought maybe I should get a little attention now that they’re back and taking over everything. I’ve only done that twice in my life here and did I get attention? Oh, you bet your booties!
And now look at me….hey, I’m easy.
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