Furball Frankie

There is something I loves to do...especially when I has a happy. I like to go find my hooman, and sit next to him. Then I get my front feets and pushes up and down on a soft service (a bed, cushions, whatever is there). I push them down one after the other, combined with a happy purr. My human often says 'Frankie! You making biscuits?' No, idiot - I is making a happy. Sometimes I like to be petted on the head while doing my dance. Sometimes I like to be left alone. Dances can last 30 seconds or they can last 5 minutes. Depends how happy I am. It also depends if my hooman disturbs me too much during that time. Happy catty dances are fun. They don't happen all the time, but when they do, be assured that I'm a happy kitty.

Everything in my house is too senstive for my little catty nose today. My hooman's shoes are too stinky. The litter tray needs changing. The bathroom smelt of a strange gel or cream hooman had used. The milk in his cereal didn't quite smell right. Even my fur had an odd smell. I found a non-stinky part of the bed to lie down on. I has raised my concerns with the authorities - let's see what will be done. At the very least, those shoes need to go.

My hooman came home with a big plastic bag and said 'Look, Frankie - fresh sheets!' I wasn't sure what this was but it wasn't ham, as I sniffed it. He took it up to our napping quarters. I stuck my head in the bag and hooman said 'Not yet, Frankie'. He pulled out some rectangular sheets and stuffed things into them. I carried on sniffing inside the bag. There was a bigger sheet, so I pawed at it. 'Yes, that's next', said hooman. He flapped this sheet a lot and made huffing and puffing sounds. Then he got a bigger, heavier sheet and stuck in on the floor. I sat on it. 'That's not helpful', said hooman. He lifted me off and I yowled in protest. He then started stuffing a giant puffy thing into this heavier sheet, then shaking it out. Then he lay it down on the bed, said 'done', and lay on top of it. I joined him, for ear scritches.

Hooman has really lost the plot this time. I've no idea what he's doing. He keeps throwing these weird, coloured springy things in front of me, then saying 'go on, Frankie!' I assume I'm supposed to do something with them. But what? The thing seems devoid of life. It doesn't move on its own. It doesn't fly or run. It just sits there. If it moved like the red dot does then maybe I'd be interested, but 'Nah, not for me'.    

Hooman didn't make anything in the food room tonight. Hooman ordered something on the compooter. Food came. I circled hooman's feet. He opened the box. I jumped up onto the table. I had sniffs. Eugh! It smelt cheesy. No chicken. No prawns. Rubbish. I walked away. Why does he get this stuff? He's a noisy eater too.    

It has been a day of flomps. Remarkable flomps. I has flomped in the kitchen, but the wooden bench is a bit hard. I has flomped on the armchair, but it's a bit too squishy. I has flomped on my hooman's bed - I have to admit, that's quite comfy. I flomped on one of the stairs, but it's not really big enough for my fluffiness. So, I has found a new favourite flomping spot for today - the squishy (but less squishy than the armchair) red chair. I shall flomp here for a while. Then I have other important cat business to attend to.