Furball Frankie

My hooman should know something. In fact, all hoomans should know it. If you pass something in front of me - and most cats - it will be sniffed. It's my job to check it out. If my hooman comes up to me, he will be sniffed too. It doesn't matter if it's the first or the twentieth time he's come up to me that day - sniffs will take place. And it doesn't matter if he only came up to me two minutes ago, and got sniffed then - there will be more sniffs. He could've been anywhere. He could've been near ham...or another cat...or an interesting-smelling hooman. Sniffs are absolutely essential. And please don't nose boop us, mid-sniff - very annoying.

I sense a change in the air. I sense that it's getting warmer. And lighter. This means that snuggle time is at a premium. I must get in as many snuggly naps while it's still a bit cold. I need to make sure my hooman is lured in by my cuteness, then roll onto my back, with a 'Mrrrrp', to ensure maximum belly rubs. The warmer weather is for sitting on window sills, spreading out on the cool floor, and chasing shadows at night. It also means defending my home from small flying things. Here comes the sun...

Silly hooman. He leaves soft things on our bed and doesn't expect them to get napped on. He seems to throw things on the bed at random - saying; 'I'll wash this soon'. Then he forgets, and the thing stays there. This is usually my chance. I sniff the thing. I paw at it. I walk around on it. I lay down on it. If it feels good, it becomes my new napping spot. Hooman has left a yellow and blue thing on the bed. He won't be wearing it again. It's my napping spot forever now.      

Something frustrates me about hoomans. They're so tall. And they insist on walking on two legs - not four, as nature intended. Whenever I want something from my hooman, I has to look up at him. If I want his attention, my meows have to be louder so that they travel all the way up to his ears. Why doesn't he help me? Why doesn't he meet me nearer the floor? Why doesn't he get on all fours so that we can communicate properly? I can then give him proper sniffs and proper catty headbutts. He's too tall. All hoomans need to be shorter.

I wish my hooman would understand - sometimes I just want to sit next to him, but not have fuss. When he's on his compooter, I like to do this. I especially like sitting on the thing with the scrawled writing all over it - it's comfy. My hooman says 'Frankie, you've got so many soft seats you could sit on', but I ignore him. He cannot stop giving me fuss though. He strokes my back. He scritches near my tail. He scritches my ears. He smooshes my face. He strokes my head. I have to turn round and give him 'the look'. This should be enough for him to leave me alone, but then he says 'It's your fault - you shouldn't be so cute and fluffy'. I despair - I really do.

I decided the cupboards needed exploring again. I meowed at all of them, and my hooman let me in each time. I meowed at the biggest one last. My hooman opened it, and...what a mess. So much stuff. I didn't know what to sniff first. I had a confused. What did he need with all this stuff? Should I make a little nest with it, and have a nap? Was any of it useful? Were there maybe meeces hiding in it? Was there a magical kingdom within? How can hooman live like this? What a mess.