The good thing about selfies with cats is that I’m anonymous without making an effort.
And luckily, paws don’t stink. I actually like the smell of Tessa’s feet.
The downside … well, you’re likely to deal with a butt on your face.
I guess I should be thankful that her ladyship’s bottom is not on my mouth!
Yes, some of you have seen the last picture already on Instagram, but I thought I’d share it here as well. (And heck, I need to get a similar picture editing app for my pc – the last picture is worlds apart from the others!)
___________________________________________________ A blog hop is a specific topic bloggers write about on a certain day. The blog hop (hopping from one blog to another) collects all links, and makes it easy to see how others have interpreted this topic. This posting is part of The Cat On My Head’s blog hop Selfie Sunday.
Mom’s been closing the bathroom door ever since Intruder K. stepped into our Queendom because humans don’t like sharing bathroom noises and smells. Isn’t it an international law that girls go to the bathroom together? At least we love to join Mom: Tessa often uses the litter box next to Mom’s while I ensure some quality lap time.
As most cats, we don’t like closed doors, so we don’t want to be with Mom in the bathroom when the door is closed. I also take my time to decide whether I want to go to the bathroom at all, and I want to make this important decision on the doorstep.
You should think that K. does enough damage by forcing Mom to close the door, but it gets worse!
K. thinks it’s silly that Mom “allows” me to be on her lap.
K. thinks that Mom’s totally nuts because we’ve a highly developed routine.
You know, it’s very hard to jump directly from the floor on Mom’s lap. I’ve to jump onto the flush behind Mom, go to the sink, balance on its edge and eventually jump on Mom’s lap. It’s a torture I can’t go through every time, so I’m meowing until Mom lifts me up. But that’s not the only thing Mom has to do: I don’t like her skin, so she has to put up her trousers as far as possible. She also has to lift her legs (“stand” on her toes) – I want the slope to be towards her belly, not the floor.
I don’t understand why our bathroom routines are any of K.’s business. Can you believe that she even wanted to take our freedom of speech? K. says that Mom shouldn’t allow me to blog on this topic because “snuggling with your cat on your lap while relieving yourself” is not the kind of thing to share online. Well…. I’m sure she has not read many cat blogs?
We’re very proud of two Australian mates. Their former servant K. is certainly well-trained, and may work in grand houses worldwide.
We were first shocked when we heard that Mom’s friend an intruder will live at our place for some weeks. Visitors mean change, cleaning and lack of attention. However, K. is well aware that we have established rules and routines in our Queendom, and she will subjugate herself whilst she is under our command. She told Mom that
I’ll let the cats adjust me to their standards and chain of control.
Now that sounds really promising. K. also said that she prefers a heated flat, but she’ll gladly open the balcony door for us as often as we want to. Well, we guess she’ll soon find out that “as long as they want to” is more appropriate: Kajsa is a lousy decision-maker and needs at least an hour to decide whether she wants to go to the balcony, with three legs in the bedroom and one leg on the balcony…
Talking of balconies: we’re all settled on the most expensive seats and eager to see a great reality show: our foolish maid with the new butler.