Furball Frankie

My hooman is lazy. He likes to stay in his napping quarters until late, on two days of the week. I has heard him call this a 'lie-in'. This is no good for me - not when I has a hungry. So I has developed tactics to get him up. First I walk up to his head. Then I sniff his face. Then I stick my cold nose in his face. If this fails, I move to Phase 2 of my plan. I sits next to his face. I meow. I yowl. I paw at his face. This usually does the trick. If not, then I move to Phase 3. This consists entirely of just sitting on his head.          

I decided to explore the bit in between all rooms again. I came to the special door. I was sure I'd seen it before, but couldn't remember. I was in a state of wonder. What could be behind it? A magical land? A world full of toona? A labyrinth of moving red dots? Bowl after bowl of chicken biscuits? Fellow cats riding tiny horses into battle? I meowed at my hooman to come and assist me urgently - to grant me entry to the magic portal. I meowed and meowed and meowed. I yowled. Finally he heeded my call. And with a cry of 'Alright, I'll open it!' he showed me the world within. There were lots of plastic bags. I sniffed the bottom shelf, then walked away.      

It was cold today. I could sense it with my little, sensitive nose. It was a day for snuggles. After breakfast, I wandered into my hooman's napping quarters and jumped onto the bed. It was still warm, from my hooman. I flomped down for naps, but I wasn't warm enough. I put my nose into my belly fur, but I still wasn't warm enough. I tucked my tail around me, but I still wasn't warm enough. I put my paws over my face...and that did it. I was warm. I was cosy. I was the perfect catty croissant.      

Sometimes things just aren't worth the thought hoomans put into them. I was having a rest earlier. Not a full nap - just relaxing in the catty loaf position. I found a comfy spot to look at, on the wall, and stared at it. My hooman came in and said 'Hiiiiii!' I kept my focus on the comfy spot. My hooman said 'Whatcha looking at, Frankie?' I stayed as I was. He leaned over and started looking towards the wall. He said 'What is it, Frankie?' I kept staring. He waved his hand in front of my eyes. This was annoying. He huffed and walked away. I kept staring.  

I likes sitting next to my hooman. I likes sitting near my hooman. I likes it when we both nap in his napping quarters. I likes laying on his chest. I is not a lap cat though. It's not my thing. But I decided to make an exception yesterday. My hooman was sitting on the big, long, soft chair. His lap was free. I hopped into it. It was made of warms. I turned around three times then settled into a loaf position. It was surprisingly comfy. I stayed there for a long time. I may do it again in future. I don't know when though.

I always make sure my hooman is well aware when I has a hungry. That way he puts food out for me on time. But it's not just a case of him putting food in my bowl. I need company when I eat too. I need him to stay with me. Sometimes he puts my food out, then wanders away somewhere. I then have to leave my bowl, find him, meow at him until he follows me, and lead him back to my bowl. After that, I make sure he stands by me while I munch. I also prefer it if he strokes my back - it makes me happy. I have to look up regularly, to make sure he's still with me. Without my hooman present, I cannot eat.