...I just can't win.
It's bad enough that the Mom isn't home all the time now to give me my Stinky Goodness when I want it, right?
Well, the other night, the Dad got home before the Mom so I figured I would go and yowl at him until he fed me. Simple, eh? So, I perch myself up on top of the Mom's scrapbooking case and was about to yowl at the Dad when I'm all of a sudden knocked over by Frankie. It seems he was on one of his typical nip-highs and spazzing out. Normally that doesn't bother me, but this time he was preventing me from my duty of yowling for food. That's not cool. I turned around and yelled "oh no...you did not just do that!" and thwapped him back into sobriety.
By the time I regained the appropriate mental state for a good yowl, the Dad had already walked into the other room. Once he sits down for the evening, nothing is going to budge him. My moment was lost and I was forced to wait for the Mom, who didn't come home until two hours later.
Bah.
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4 comments:
Some serious whappin is called fur. The woman fur bein late. Frankie fur buttin in. The man fur not anticipatin yur needs. An Frankie agin, just cuz.
I think I'd give everybody involved in this mess a bite.
Geez! Does no one have any consideration?
The man definitely deserves a bitey fur not catering to yur needs. We don't liks to wait fur food eifur.
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