So, you may as well all know now. She leaves me overnight here with all this yarn, and she’s all like, “don’t touch the yarn.”
Easy for you lady, I’m a cat…in a yarn shop. And she doesn’t even bring me wet food on a regular basis. This forced imprisonment and torture is so reprehensible, I have no choice but to sit here, when no one’s looking, and blog all about the inner workings of this place. An exposè, if you will.
I have tried, numerous times, to plea for help, doing the most abhorrent things for a cat my age. Greeting people when they walk in like a dog, rubbing up on the legs of perfect strangers-I have even resorted to…gulp…rolling over and showing my belly. Do you know what they do?!? They RUB IT! As if this is something I ENJOY! I do NOT, sir! No treats? No wet food? NO WET FOOD? These humans are no better than my captors! What is it going to take?
That’s when it hit me: Secretly blog about my lamentations and let the world know how I suffer.
They’ll never catch on, and hopefully, one day, someone will notice and save me from this horrible life of dry food, fake mice, and the Forbidden Fruit that is…yarn.