My blankets are no longer coming apart at the seams.
My lacy underwear has no new holes (except the ones created by human fingers ripping them off in the heat of passion of course)
I no longer find piles of crackers in the corners of cupboards.
Squirrel no longer wanders through the house swinging his machete and mumbling obscenities to himself.
There's peace in the schoolhouse in Bear River Valley tonight.
All thanks to King George.
Who's totally worth the price of cat food.
12 comments:
I "could of" written a brilliant comment about the cat and mouse conundrum but I was distracted by the image of a grammar obsessed dom.
I'll be in my bunk.
Oh Kym,
You've now got everyone wondering where you and I really were instead of being at the blogger's picnic...
Thwack!
Would you like another?
Oh wait...you don't get the spanking.
I take that thwack back.
I just got a little overexcited for a minute.
It's good to see King George!
Good kitty.
Over in these parts we still call him by his proper name. The Handsome King George!
-boy
I'm sorry, boy. I can't call him by his proper name anymore. You see, his status as a great hunter and my overabundant praise has led to a little swollen cat head problem. He now feels like he should have over 1/2 the bed all to himself all night and all the blankets. He meows incessantly to go out, stays out 30 seconds, meows to come back in, stays 30 seconds, starts meowing again to go back out...and the list goes on. He's doing a great job, but I may need to put some behavior modification techniques in place for the king.
What readers can't tell from his picture is that he is a BIG cat. Not fat, but large and athletic. When you pull the covers in an attempt to get him to move off of the bed, he won't budge!!! It is only when he either falls off the bed, or gets irritated will he move. I guess a change of scenery does not change some of his bad habits.
Oh, and sorry about the meowing thing...I guess Diva could apply to him too.
Such a King!
-boy
This is a great post, Kristabel! Looks like King George is doing his job! Good for him and good for you and the mister
Squirrel no longer wanders through the house swinging his machete and mumbling obscenities to himself.
SO, does this means there are no more "Ranch Hand(less)s" coming around by the pale moonlight?
-boy
I don't think he could have gotten
a better home on the planet. Great
Post!
Gosh, I'm always SO happy for people whose cats actually bother with rodents (I need to do some major carpentry in the pantry next week, before they discover the Scharffen Berger).
I have four felines: Ancient, Obese, Bulimic, and Epileptic.
OK, their names are really Spazz, Snoopy, Tigress, and Binky, but they're useless as anything other than leg warmers. Sigh.
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