Today, I Won't Puke on the Floor.
A guest post from Ms. Siah Sausage. Strange little critter.
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Today is Kerri's birthday, and she's taking the day off to spend the afternoon with her mom and then go out to celebrate with Chris tonight.
Birthdays. I don't care about those sorts of things, unless they are my own, in which case I fully expect a carrot cake with cat nip frosting, and my own Snuggie and maybe something I can use to scratch the couch because sometimes it just plain makes my paws tired to spend all that time fixing the couch. I deserve rewards for those behaviors. I am, after all, very tolerant of Kerri and her affinity for picking me up all the time and snuggling me to her face. She still has a face. See how tolerant I am?
So it's her birthday, and the other cats and I have decided to give her our respective gifts:
Abby has decided not to shed on the couch today. This is a big deal because Abby is almost topping out at 18 pounds of fluffiness, so having her refrain from shedding means that Kerri doesn't have to vacuum today. This is also a big deal. Kerri hates vacuuming, but when Abby's fur becomes a tumbleweed that rolls across the living room floor, she starts swearing and promising to send us all to Belgium (which I would be fine with because I hear they have nice chocolate and I like chocolate and also Teddy Grahams - they are good), and then she brings out that huge vacuum cleaner that is so LOUD and sends us all scurrying for safety. So Abby won't shed.
Happy birthday, Kerri, from Abby.
Prussia promises not to sleep on her sweaters. Kerri will be very pleased, because Prussia likes to get into bags of sweaters that have just been returned from that dry cleaning place, and then she sleeps on them. Which, again, makes Kerri swear. Creatively. So no Prussia Cat nestled in the pockets of clean sweaters.
Happy Birthday, Kerri, from Prussia.
And from me. Her favorite, even though she claims to like me the least. Today, in honor of Kerri's birthday, I have made a solemn promise to refrain from doing what she hates the most - I won't scurry over to the food bowls and devour as much as I can in one breath, and then go hide under the dining room table and heave my guts out in several different locations. I won't make her crawl on her hands and knees under the table with that can of rug cleaner and a wet towel, mumbling as she mops up my offerings.
Today, I won't puke on the floor.
Happy birthday, Kerri, from your favorite Sausage Cat.
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Thanks, Siah. For making me feel so ... like this.