Alarming Incident(s)

Hi everyone, Katie here.

There's been an incident. Multiple incidents. THREE to be exact. And I'll give you ONE guess who's to blame.

It was an ordinary day. I was just innocently hanging out in the piano room, admiring my modern cat tree, when Waffles Too entered the room and commandeered the third level of my tree. 

 

I might add, he did NOT seek permission to approach, let alone climb my cat tree. I guess some cats just need to look down on others to feel good about themselves.

The next thing I know, I'm being attacked from the sky. Waffles Too waited for me to come just a few feet closer and then WHAM. He dove from skyscraper heights and landed right on my back. Friends, you will have to take my word for this, as it was impossible to capture his maneuver on camera given the speed of the assault.

And then it happened.

Sirens blaring. Some loud stranger yelling ALARM, ALARM, AREA 9 - GLASS BREAK KITCHEN - ALARM, ALARM. And Glogirly frantically searching for her phone.

GLOGIRLY:  Yes, I'd like to report a false alarm.

GLOGIRLY:  Yes, everything is fine, except for my two insane CATS.

GLOGIRLY:  No, it was just the cats.

GLOGIRLY:  Yes, cats.

GLOGIRLY:  Just two.

GLOGIRLY:  Well we have this new kitten and I guess his claws on the hardwood floor ...as he was attacking my other INNOCENT cat.

GLOGIRLY:  No, really. We're all okay.

GLOGIRLY:  Thank you. Bye.

Do not be fooled. I may look like the aggressor, but I assure you I am NOT.

Fast forward 24 hours. Waffles Too does it again.

Fast forward 48 hours. AGAIN.

So now the security guy with the toolbelt has to come to the townhouse. Great. Just great. I'm going  to post this mug shot at the front door so he knows what he's dealing with.

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My Townhouse, My Life

Hi everyone, Katie here.

I know. Don't even start with me. Certainly you must know it's not my fault. My girl suddenly gives up a life of servitude to me (a.k.a. "unemployment") and takes up a job. A job! The nerve. All the salmon in the world can't make up for this mess.

Well I believe she's finally crumbling under the pressure. My fans, Cod bless them, are a persistent bunch. We've been receiving countless emails asking if all is ok at the townhouse. Are we well? Are we still alive? Are we going to blog again?

We are well.

We are still alive.

We ARE blogging again!

But alas, all is not well at the townhouse. Just look at the place! We've been sealed up like leftovers in a zip-lock bag all summer long. I can't even see out my windows. I have no idea if the bunnies are still alive and kicking outside. I can't even make out the birds.

See that scaffolding? Imagine having to eat in front of noisy, smelly construction workers who are standing right outside the kitchen windows. Right outside my dish for crying out loud.

Why the mess and destruction? Mold. I don't even know who or what Mold is. I'm still a cat you know. But according to glogirly and gloman, this Mold-guy is the one responsible for stealing my summer bunny and bird viewing away. Strange men in work boots coming and going...I swear, I haven't gotten a moment's rest.

Thank Cod for the internet or I'd have nothing at all. Except for now. I have my blogging friends and fans again.

That is if you'll have me.