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Catty Plans

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I has been pretty much perfect all year - the ideal feline. But I suppose I could improve one or two things. I has heard my hooman talk about 'rezolooshuns' - doing good things next year. With this in mind, I decided to set some goals for myself. So... I vow to be even cuter – not sure if this is possible. I vow to sniff more things. I vow to find more catnip. I vow to chat more with my hooman – his pronunciation of ‘meow’ needs work. I vow to keep him company, by sitting on whatever he’s looking at. I vow to spread my litter evenly throughout our home. I vow to get at least 7 belly rubs per day. I vow to catch the red dot. I vow to nap more. I vow to sleep on top of my hooman more. I vow to increase the speed of my laps around our home. I vow to get more fur on things. I vow to eat more snacks. I vow to wash more – keeping my fur nice and shiny. It seems like a lot, but I'm sure I'll manage it. Or, if I don't, I'll ju...
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More catty drugs!

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It happened again...only this time it wasn't just on some socks. My hooman opened a draw and said 'Merry Christmas', then threw a furry thing at me, which had a little feather tail. I thought I smelt good stuff. I got closer to the furry thing. I did smell good stuff! Catty drugs! I had a happy! I sniffed it. I licked it. I bit it. I clawed it. I rolled around on it. I bunny-kicked it. I rubbed my face on it. Drug, drugs, drugs!
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Scratchy things

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I has a confused. I is on high alert. In our napping quarters I spotted something: lots of scratchy things on the walls. Bugs? They must be caught. I must pounce on them. I must defend my honour...and protect my hooman. I has jumped up at them. I has swiped at them. I has clawed them. I hasn't caught one yet. But I will. I'm biding my time.    
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Haaaaaaaaaam

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I likes my idiot hooman at the moment. He keeps bringing tasties home. He keeps bringing hams. He thinks I can't tell, but I can smell it as soon as he walks in with it. And I know where he keeps it — in the big, tall, white thing. If he goes to it and I trots to his side, I make sure to look up at him with my wide catty eyes. Then I meow as if this is my last song on Earth. This usually does the trick. For extra cuteness, I jump up at him. Job done: hams secured.    
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Catty drugs!

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I was having sniffs in the napping quarters when my sensitive little catty nose detected something. I had to hunt it down. I jumped onto the bed, sniffed around, and found the source - my hooman's pink feets covers...'socks', I think. They smelt goooooooooooooood. They smelt of catty drugs. I had a happy. I bit them. I licked them. I rolled all over them. I was in catty ecstacy. I did catty headshakes. My eyes went big and wide. I bunny-kicked the socks. Then I fell asleep.
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This is the loaf

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It is cold. But I has a happy. I has found a sunbeam. Sunbeams are the best. Almost as good as chicken. I found the ideal spot, both to oversee my territory and to stare at my hooman. I walked in a circle three times, settled down, tucked my back feets in, tucked my front feets in. The perfect catty loaf. My hooman looked at me and said 'You enjoying the sun, Frankie?' I blinked at him. Idiot. I napped.
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Too clean

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My hooman has been flapping about in our napping quarters again. I went in, after his flapping, to investigate. I jumped up onto the bed. It was different. It smelt different. In fact it didn't smell enough - that was the problem. I think this is what the hooman calls 'clean'. I don't like it. It lacks catty scent. I looked to correct this immediately. I rolled around on the bed, rubbed my face on it, made biscuits on it. Then I laid down on it and stretched out. Then I rolled around some more. It's not there yet - but it'll get there. It just needs to be Frankie-fied.  
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