*yawn*
Tonight, Mother sat in the floor furiously pressing clay into a cat-shaped mold. She's insane. She smelt (I love fish) of cats. I suspect she has been canoodling with other felines...inferior felines, that is. They are ALL inferior compared to Me.
I slept quite a bit, beauty rest you know. *lights cigar* *adjusts ascot* I used my powers of the mind to persuade Mother to buy some nice moist cat food while she was out buying that ridiculous cat-shaped clay item. I failed to mention previously that after she pressed the clay into the mold, she tricked me, loved on me and talked sweetly to me for a moment, and then...
Oh Lord, I don't know if I can even say it.
It's frightening.
She. *gulp* She pressed my paw, my BEAUTIFUL PERFECT PAW, into the clay. I tried to hyperventilate myself into a trance-like state, hoping it would ease the trauma and the fear, but alas. It did not. I began to struggle a little. Mother is of slight build, but she is of great strength. I was powerless against her highly-evoled-human efforts. *sigh*
Perhaps it is again time for a nap. You know, to forget the horror.
*snuffs cigar*
*sprays air freshener*
Current Mood: smugCurrent Music: Stray Cat Strut
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iwearhairypants's journal
