Furball Frankie

Hmmm...things are getting stranger and stranger about my new place. It doesn't have the floor of the last place. It's hard. I can't flomp onto it. I tried sitting on it, but I got a cold bum. I tried resting on it, but it's a bit hard. It's quite good for plodding on, but it's not quite up to my standard. I hope the floor strandrard improves. It certianly needs some rugs.

There has been many new and exciting things about exploring my new home. The carpet is very scratchable...and it feels so good to roll around on. I have 4 beds to choose from, for maximum flomps. But I has discovered new skills. I has discovered catrobatics. I is a master of balance. I can walk back and forth on this wooden beam, meowing to my hooman if I get stuck. Then I can sit on the plinth at the end, like a giant lion. I wonder what's next for me? A medal? A statue? An honorary degree? I'm such a talented cat.

I is not a silly kitty. I is a very clever kitty. I knows how to make the most of situations. In this new house in particular I know how to do this. The floor is nice and soft, which means maximum flomps for me. I can flomp from pretty much any standing position, then appreciate the softness. But it also has other advantages. My hooman cannot resist giving me belly rubs when I've flomped and my belly is all exposed. This is perfect on the nice soft floor, because I can just roll back and forth and still be comfy. So I shows one bit of my belly, then, when I've had enough rubs on that bit, I roll over, with a 'mrrrrp', and show the other half of my belly. I get all the rubs on that bit...then I rolls back. It's great. I get absolutely maximum belly rubs. Happy.

I don't think I has posted on here in a while. I's been too busy exploring. Something strange happened. My hooman took us from our usual home, took me in the vroom vroom...and suddenly let me out into a room in a strange house. I had a confused...and lots of sniffs. He kept me in this room, with my poo and wee tray, my food and water, some toys, and a comfy towel. It had a huge bed in it - perfect for spread-out naps. But I got bored quickly. I knew the house was much bigger than our usual place. I wanted to see it. When my hooman next came to the door, I ran out; freeeeeeedom! There was so much to see and sniff. There were stairs to run up and down - extra space for zoomies. And the floor was soft, unlike our usual home. Perfect for lying down and rolling around on. But the best thing? There are multiple places for flomps. There are three floors. One floor has two beds for flomps. Another floor has two smaller beds for flomps. The lounge has three soft long chairs for flomps. ...

I watch my hooman do so many things that don't make sense. Take his 'cloves', for example - that he wears over his skin. So much effort. He takes them off. He puts them on. He puts them in a basket. He takes them out of a basket. He puts them in a spinning, whooshy thing. He takes them out of a spinny, whooshy thing. He hangs them all out for ages. He brings them back inside. He puts them away again. He puts them on. It goes on and on and on. Why not just grow fur? Surely it's easier and more convenient. He can grow it on his head and face, so why not the rest of him? I think he's just not putting enough effort in.

It happens a lot - I'm peacefully napping and then I hear my hooman's heavy footsteps. I know he's coming to annoy me. He can't help it. What's he going to do though? Will he shout 'Frankiiiiiiiiiiie' and bury his face in my belly fur? Will he say 'ooojshi booojshi' and kiss me on the head? Will he boop my nose? Will he ruffle my belly fur with his hands? Will he annoyingly touch my back feets? Will he smoosh my face? I decided he was going to boop my nose, so looked to protect it. Mad hooman.