Kitchen Floor Sessions

Cats and routines- we all have 'em, am I right? So as life goes on here I get into some habits with mom and dad. One of my more recent routines involves both of my humans, though it's become a favorite early morning pastime with dad.

I typically look for lovin' wherever I can find it, so when dad gets off his butt after reading in my chair & guzzling his java, and starts his morning routine in the kitchen, I know I've got a captive audience.

I'll go into the kitchen meowing, where he's busy prepping his breakfast & lunch, and sprawl out right in the middle of the floor, looking up at him oh-so-longingly.

If he's running behind, he just steps over me, but I'm irresistible and I've got him trained so he always gets down on all fours, groaning all the way down (more so on the way back up), and gives me the scritches, pats and belly rubs I so crave until I've had my fill.

So you might be thinking, "Who puts carpet in a kitchen?". Well, based on what I'm tired of hearing almost daily this winter, the porcelain tile-over-concrete-slab thing here feels like an ice skating rink. Yeah, there's socks & slippers, but I still hear about it. The rug's ugly, but it was free and my claws are loving it. Plus, I'm sure this tile will be nice in the summer. 

A Little Behind Again

Oh dern, where to begin? Dad's been a little lax again about keeping up here. Week before last he was supposed to help me do a post, and he was getting ready to spend yet another week catering to his boss's mutts . Well, wouldn't you know, he and mom both tested positive for COVID for the first time. They thought they were simply coming down with head colds but dad's brain told him to pick up a couple of tests. Dad says at first they just felt kinda (rhymes with kitty) and thankfully they didn't get the fever or anything worse. It wore them down a bit, and somewhere along the line the big ding dong also pulled something in his knee so he's been hobbling along while trying to keep his canine charges occupied and exercised. All in all it's just been a couple of (there's that kitty word again) weeks. Prior to leaving, dad managed to snap a couple shots from when mom was packing his (rhymes with fit), which she does most every time he goes away. No, he doesn't ask or tell her to- she's, well, a control freak in most every way and likes to make sure he's well-prepared. Honest. So, on that big old bed the only place I found snoozeworthy was, well. . .

and one from the other end

Sheet Happens

 Dad hung up a sheet across the front entrance to our place because the cold air, as he puts it, seeps right through the effing walls. 

That's me on the right

So I thought, great, cool, a new play area! It didn't take me long to learn to use the sheet as a hidey place, or mom & dad too long to get off their butts and use my toys to keep me entertained.

See My Paw?

Of course, they'll say things like "We always try to get you to play" or "You hardly give us the time of day when we try to engage you", or "Whenever we try to give you attention you usually turn and walk away" and, mostly "You sit there, begging for attention with your eyes and when we come to give it to you, you up and walk away!". I know, what whiners, right? 

 I'm tired now from all the complaining, so I'm gonna just sit here, half in & half out and rest a while. Bye.