Furball Frankie

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.  

I has been very busy. I has had a good wash. I washed my front feets. I washed my chest. I lay on the floor and washed my belly. I turned my head to the side and washed my back. I did my back feets twice, for good measure. I was all done. I was really pleased with my work. My fur was all shiny. Then my hooman ran into the room, said 'Frankiiiiiiiiiie!' in a silly, high-pitched voice, and rubbed my belly and back fur. Now I have to start all over again. Idiot.

Being a kitty is often about strategy. We has to know when to meow, when to purr, where to sit. I has found a good position today. It's hot, so I needs to cool down. But I also wants fuss. What to do? Perfect solution... Flomp down onto the cooling floor, and... Roll over to expose my belly. A little, squeaky meow, then maximum belly rubs from my hooman. The ideal spot.