Furball Frankie

My hooman is messy. There is lots of stuff everywhere in our home. Stuff on the table, stuff on the chairs, stuff on our bed, stuff on the walls...stuff wherever there's space to put stuff. And he trails wires everywhere. They go into plugs. There's one long plug in the big main room. I forget what they all do. One is for the whirring machine that takes water out of the air. One goes into his compooter. One goes into the big, scary, whirring, sucking machine. One is for a thing that beeps a lot. Why does my hooman need so many wires? What is he hoping to achieve? Strange creature.    

I was having a slow walk around before, from room to room. I stopped a few times to have sniffs. I meowed at my hooman for a head scritch. Then I heard something. Noises by the front door. Hoomans. Lots of talking. Things jangling. I was on high alert. I jumped up onto something higher. I can hear better this way. My little catty ears went forwards. My whiskers twitched. Lots of hooman noises. Were they coming into my home? I listened...and listened...and listened. Then there were no more hooman noises. I stayed higher up and washed my feets.

I has a sleepy. I has a comfy. I has a cosy. I has a content. It is therefore my hooman's duty to make me even more comfy, cosy, and content. I has decided to assist him with this. When he comes into our napping quarters, where I has flomped down, I roll so that my belly is facing up. I also tucks my fluffy feets in. This gives my hooman maximum access to my belly. It also makes me look cute. So far he has responded well, giving very good, and very soft, belly rubs. He does get carried away though. He screams 'You're so cute!' Then he sticks his face in my belly fluff and blows raspberries. I don't want him to do this, so I gives him light bunny kicks. Belly rubs = good. Raspberries = not so good. I shall keep my feets tucked in for now.

It's my duty to inspect things for my hooman; his food, his furniture, his shopping, his cupboards, his general tidiness (lacking), his smell...and his clothes. It's in his best interests. I'm looking out for him. I noticed his clothes cupboard slightly open before. I don't like closed doors. I meowed at it. Hooman said; 'Really? It's not that interesting, Frankie' I meowed again. And again. And again. He huffed; 'Okay then - go in if you really want to' I went into the clothes cupboard. It smelt a bit musty. I looked up at the clothes. Pinks, blues, bright yellow, a lot of black, some grey. Not great. I lifted my head and had sniffs. It all lacked catty scent. Also not great. I pawed at the clothes. My claws got stuck. I meowed for my hooman's help. He took too long. We got my claws free. I decided. I don't like the clothes in that cupboard. My hooman can do better. I have meowed my notes to him on this matter. I hope he listens to my advice...

When I has dinner, or breakfast, I likes minimal fuss. I just likes to get on with things; munch, munch, munch, full belly, and a lick of the chops. I don't like sudden noises or movements. This is a shame, as I was distracted at dinner. I was mid-eats, when I heard a noise outside. I think it was other hoomans chatting. This took me away from my munching. I stared at the window. Nothing happened. I could still hear voices. Then I spotted a small flapping thing, within the room. This distracted me further. Must pounce. I had to walk around the room three times, do a catty headshake, then return to my bowl. Difficult times.

My hooman came in before, with two bags. He shouted 'Frankiiiiiie! Shoppiiiiiiing!' The bags contained foods. I know this because I sniffed them. It's very important that I inspects all bags that come into my home. They contained hooman foods. And they contained catty foods. I meowed at my hooman. I wanted to see what catty foods he had. But he wouldn't show me properly. He just went into the foods room and started taking things out of the bags. He put most of those things in the big, tall, white thing. I lost interest. Then I heard a familiar crinkling sound. It's a sound that means 'snacks'. I like snacks. I meowed urgently at my hooman. I saw it in his hand. The orange bag. Dreamies. I rubbed myself all over his legs. He cannot hide Dreamies from me. He tried to move away. I walked in between his legs. He tripped. He sighed...and opened the packet. Success. I ate some Dreamies, then walked in front of him again.