Bought a new yoga mat. Nothing wrong with the old one, but the cat needed the box. Advertisements
I was reproached (in the kindest manner) for posting heavy stuff on a Saturday morning. I shall repent and rectify. Here’s a cat.
The cat is waiting for me to finish my shower, so she could jump right in and drink the soapy water, clearly not knowing any better.
In the night, I listen to the sounds that the cat makes. It’s sort of soothing. Here are the sounds: Floor creaking: the creaky old floor creaks even when my light-weight cat walks on it. There’s an element of suspense because you never know where exactly she’s heading and what she’s up to. Radiator clinking:
It’s probably late for Michael’s Wot I Shot challenge. Or maybe not. To my utmost confusion, I always see Michael’s Wednesday posts on Tuesday. So why not join the Wednesday challenge on Thursday? Time zones clearly elude me. I took and ruined Michael’s challenge by deciding to participate with the worst of my bad Instagram
My cat is sad because I can’t sleep, which is keeping her awake too.
The cat ruined my cushion and fell asleep at the crime scene. She doesn’t get the concept of guilt.
This is my friend’s cat. I edited her eyes awkwardly to make them more yellow, so now she looks like an alien with smudged irises.
Cats are generally deemed to be plotting the early demise of their owners. I don’t think they have it well thought-through because procuring a new owner might present a problem. It doesn’t make sense for the cat to dispose of the human, unless the cat wants to feast on the dead body. But cats don’t
Something is up. Or, more likely, nothing is up and my cat is just watching the air, as per usual.