Trading Spaces

Hi everyone, Katie here.

It was a virtual HGTV show in my townhouse today. And I did not like it one bit. Every once in awhile glogirly decides to move things around on me. A chair from upstairs may suddenly show up downstairs. A bed may move across the room. It's all very stressful. These changes interfere with my daily rounds. You see, everyday I systematically walk the townhouse and investigate each room to make sure nothing is out of place. Anything that doesn't belong or has been moved must be inspected. It's incredibly time consuming. But someone has got to do it.

Often when things start moving around there's a great deal of chaos. Chaos makes me uncomfortable. There's the squeaking of furniture feet on the floor. Clutter everywhere while she decides where each thing she's touched will ultimately be placed. Spray cleaners spraying. Vacuum cleaners vacuuming. You're probably starting to get my point. My day has been turned upside down. I have to supervise every move she makes and my napping schedule has been severely compromised.

This particular home improvement episode lasted the better part of a day. It began with turning the downstairs red room into a guest room. GUEST room. I've got a bad feeling about that. At least now there's another bed in the house that I can help make, leave my hair on and hide underneath.

It all culminated with the relocation of the most important element of the house. My litter box. Glogirly thought she could make me like it by gushing at me about what a good kitty I am. If she only knew how ridiculous she looks. My box didn't move far, so I'm not going to make a scene. She's got it hidden behind a curtain now so although it's a little dicey getting to it, I at least have a bit of privacy. I'm still going to dig with reckless abandon and spray my litter all over the place. That's the price glogirly must pay for making me poop in a box.