Chère Cheryl and I have something very particular (peculiar?) in common. You’ll never in a million miaows guess what. No, it’s not what you’re thinking… nothing to do with foooood. Actually she kind of turns up her nose at my mushy. Plus, she prefers cookies to kibble. In fact, she prefers nearly all kinds of food to kibble.
So what is it? (wait for the Big Reveal)….We have the same favourite colour: blue. I kid you not…. Although, what baby goats have to do with that expression, I know not.
Anymiaow, here’s proof:
See, the green mouse is still intact, whereas the blue one — let’s simply say it’s been a bit mauled.
When it comes to ball games in the basement, I also prefer chasing the blue felt ball to the green, and actually ignore the latter as well as the pink. GG heaves a sigh, but she goes on throwing in hopes. Hah.
For the life of me I can’t remember where I’ve hidden that blue ball… in a safe place for sure. Maybe GG will buy me a new one. I’ll have to miaow the idea into her mind — although they say sugar catches more flies than vinegar, so a few purrs might be better. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to get her attention, like when she’s sitting on the swing chair and clicking on the keyboard, staring at that lit up frame she calls the computer screen. When I’m desperate I jump up on her lap. Trouble is, the chair is unstable. I usually fall off again. Nothing at all to do with my being too big and fat. No no no no no.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
When I’m really desperate, I sit on the floor, reach up to touch her thigh with my paws… and claws. Just a little bit. She’s inclined to over-react and exclaim ‘Ouch’!! Then I turn away and stalk out of her study.
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