Every time I get to the final boss…
My name is Mocha and I’m 7 years old. Sure, I have my own food. But I LOVE to eat the new kitten’s food, instead. I have absolutely no willpower and will push the kitten out of the way, to get at her dish! Mommy has had to seperate us to opposite ends of the house, at feeding times, so I won’t get any fatter! No one has yet to offer a good enough reason why being fat is so bad for me, so I still try to sneak into the kitten’s room at mealtimes, hoping Mommy won’t notice I am a stubborn little fat cat, and I won’t give up until I resemble a pillow!
Caught in the Act asks: “How can I make my Mommy forget that I hissed and tried to smack her in the face, when she tried to trim my nails? Or forgive me when I’ve just been caught destroying her $30 iPad cord?? She’s so mad at me right now!”
Latte answers: “Fall asleep sitting up like this! Mommy will melt and make with the cuddles in the blink of an eye. Trust me, it works all the time!”
My name is Latte and I’m a spazzed out lunatic, with no apparent need for rest. Ever. I’m very suspicious about those evil bedcovers humans sleep under, so I feel the need to keep Mommy and Daddy awake all night by attacking their feet and biting their toes, should they chance to move. They sure don’t seem to appreciate my efforts to rid them of the evil that lies beneath their comforter! They’ve even taken to locking me in another room at night – ungrateful, I call it!
Oberon is our beautiful baby Turkish Angora (we think), whose boundless energy comes with some challenges. Napkins, toilet paper, printer paper, receipts. If it’s within reach, it will die. Mommy and daddy need to formulate a better plan of hiding their paper goods, or this paper holocaust may never end.
This is Solstice. He technically belongs to my ex-wife. The cat lives with me because my kids asked me to take him in. This morning at 5:45, while I’m drinking my morning coffee in my bathrobe, the cat rocketed through the porch door with a large live vole in his mouth. He was watching me out of the corner of his eye as he ran because he knew I would stop him. Then, of course, he let the vole go and had no clue what to do with it. My son and I trapped the vole and put it outside. Then I had to deal with an angry and frustrated cat and vole poop.
My daughter has agreed to take him when she finds an apartment. I am counting the days!