Mom’s still away, and oh yes, she will pay for abounding us. However, we’ve to admit that this “somebody-called-catsitter” thing turned out ok.
Mom hired two maids to serve us in her absence. One live-in maid and one live-out servant who’s compensating for the house maid when she’s off duty. It’s very difficult to find live-in servants nowadays, so we guess we’ve to accept that the live-in maid is not covering all days of Mom’s vacation.
That being said, we do require a certain standard. That’s me on the grand catwalk, demanding entertainment.
Now that’s working pretty well!
That way I can also show our new maids that I’m a very talented and dangerous predator, so they better treat me with respect – and don’t call me stupid.
Now after the hunting party, I’d expect a great feast for the feline aristocracy. It’s according the etiquette, isn’t it?
So where’s Mommy? I’ve been looking for her all day!
Maybe she’s just behind the house? I better check the other window as well.
Nope. Good thing is that she can’t complain now that I’m blocking the way to the (cat-proofed) balcony. But this won’t help me in the long run: we’re left all to ourselves, and we’ll probably starve to death soon.
You know, I really tried my best to prevent her departure. Yesterday she found a tick behind my ear and failed to remove it – its head is still under my skin. I thought she’d stay home, nurse me and give me a lot of treats, but all she did was to check with a vet if “we” need to come. Bah. Vet. I just need treats and attention to feel better!
Can you believe that she left me heavily injured?? She just added a note to the loooooong list to someone-called-catsitter and asked to keep an eye on my wound. And then … then the unbelievable happened. She just cut my wonderful fur behind my left ear so that someone-called-catsitter / a vet can control my wound. Bah. I look terrible, so I didn’t let her take any pictures.
Uh-oh. Someone’s tinkering with the door lock. Help! Thieves? Or even worse – the vet???
We already know that we can’t rely on Mom’s judgement call when it comes to apartments. We’ve now found out why we hardly see squirrels around here – it’s because of our bad neighborhood!
Mom took these pictures about 600 meters from our house. This tree looks like an ordinary fir, and Mom’s instincts are so badly evolved that she didn’t pay any attention.
But somehow it even crossed her mind that she often sees squirrels and birds here. So Mrs Super Brain had a closer look… just look what’s behind the branches: a squirrel and bird paradise! Snow-free, dry and hidden, that’s what these little suckers like. Is it any wonder that they don’t hang out at our place?
It’s so important to check your potential neighborhood before moving somewhere, even though Mom claims that Finland is a very safe country without any real bad neighborhoods. Bah. And what is this??? We’ve neighbors who are spending time and money on a secret bird and squirrel restaurant!!
We think she should take us to this place, but Mom said “I’m afraid our neighbors won’t appreciate when I walk cats to their feeding station”. So she is afraid of our neighbors? How can she still claim that there’s nothing wrong with our neighborhood?
Since the … um … expensive lamp incident, Mom’s been worrying about replacement glasses for Grandpa’s lamp – until he said that they don’t want to repair the lamp.
“Well, we found out that neither of us wants to keep the lamp, but we both thought the other one did.”
Mom says we should be grateful that the lamp wasn’t important after all, and that Granny and Grandpa are so relaxed about our “accidents”.
Bah. We again think that they exploit our workforce! Granny set us to work on the green armchair (you may remember that she wanted us to destroy an armchair so that she can finally get rid of it!), and now they need somebody to destroy a lamp to find out that neither of them liked the lamp. Who again said that Homo sapiens is the most advanced species on communication?!? And where is our salary?
Do your humans also fight about ridiculous things?
Mom sleeps with Granny in the king size bed because Grandpa’s computer is in the guest room. He likes to surf at night when Mom’s already sleeping, so they decided that he sleeps in the guest room and Mom in the bedroom with Granny.
Granny and Mom have ever since had a very weird competition. They believe that I always sleep on the bed of my favorite person: when I sleep on Granny’s side, I like her more than Mom and vice versa. (Aren’t humans weird???). They often check the bedroom to see if I sleep on the bed – and where.
It’s important to keep them on their toes though, so I decided to confuse them with my neutral peaceful position, hehe.
P.S. Mom says that Granny’s cheating because she puts my favorite fleece blanket on her bed to attract me. Sigh. Humans. Will they ever learn to get along with each other??
Mom is very sick and coughing on the sofa, so I thought that I’d help Granny instead. She often laughs when she sees me, so I guess she’ll be happy to get some helping paws.
Talking of helping paws: you probably know that many Europeans celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve. Mom’s family will meet at her brother’s place at about 5 pm. Mom is feeling so bad that she thinks about staying at home with Kajsa and me. Sounds like a great plan to us, but her family wants her to come so that Mom isn’t alone on Christmas Eve.
Alone?!? Mom tried to tell her family that she has wonderful company, but apparently we are “only two cats” and don’t count. ??
What, Mom? I know that I never sit on your lap. I like it when you lay down, but your lap is not good enough for me. Granny’s again is perfect, I want to sit here for hours! Now get lost and leave us alone.
You may continue tickling me now, Granny, I think I made my point.
Oh, I love this box on top of the cupboard. It’s one of my favorite beds, but why on earth did Mom put it there if she didn’t want me to sleep in it??
It’s not my fault that I have to jump on the kitchen table when I want to get down. And it’s not my fault that Granny likes to sit there with her crosswords. And it certainly isn’t my fault that she forgets that she’s two cats now, and that I like to sleep on the cupboard.
So when I jump on her crossword after some good hours sleep, and Granny starts behaving like slaughtered people in a horror movie, why does Mom look at me??????