Furball Frankie

I made a decision this morning. I thought long and hard about it . I decided to leave my nice warm cupboard for a bit and sit on the bed. Then I decided to lie down on the bed. This gave my hooman full access to all my fluffiness. It meant he could pet me as much as he pleased. This was my gift to him. I left the cupboard to allow him to do this. I hope he truly appreciates the great sacrifice I made.      

I had good sleep last night. I moved back onto the bed with my hooman. This is useful as he's made of warms. I also like to be within petting distance, so he can give me fuss. I settled between his legs, as this is comfy and gives maximum warms. He wriggled a bit during the night, which was annoying. But, in general, he behaved. The annoying thing is that he got up this morning, which meant my warms went. I was too sleepy to move though. I needed something to make me feel better, in the absence of my soft, squishy hooman. I gave him little squeaky meows, as I know he finds these cute. He had no choice but to sit and stroke my side, and give me belly rubs. Because of this, I has decided to forgive him for getting up. He's lucky I'm such a merciful kitty.

Today has been a day for thinking. A day for deep reflection. A day for pondering. After a nap, some biscuits, and a wash, I went to my favourite window sill. I sat. I watched the squirrels. I swished my tail. I considered all those poor creatures with lesser tails than mine. I thought about those who live in trees and where they sleep at night. I thought about chicken. I thought about ham. I thought about whether the red dot ever gets a chance to rest. I wondered where my hooman takes my poo to. I chattered at a robin. It's good to practice meowndfulness.

Hooman is typing. Hooman pauses. Hooman looks up. Now? Hooman starts typing again. Hooman makes a huffing noise. Hooman scratches his face. Hooman sticks his finger in his nose. Now? Hooman returns to typing. Hooman eats something. Hooman writes something down. Hooman moves his legs. Hooman looks at phone. Hooman looks at me. Hooman says 'Hi Frankie', strokes my head, and gives me ear scritches. Better.    

I was having a wander last night. I was bored. I went to see where my hooman was. Now I want to make it perfectly clear — I am not, I repeat, NOT...a lap cat. It's not my thing. I has far too much pride. But my hooman did look nice, and squishy, and soft, and warm. So I jumped up onto the big, long, soft chair to join him. I stepped onto his legs. I had sniffs. Yup - this would do. I turned around five times, then felt it was time to settle. I settled in his lap. It was warm. I got lots of fuss and had a mini-nap. I hope my hooman doesn't get used to it though — it won't be happening often.    

I has an extra cute today. I knows this. So I went and found my hooman. He was sitting on the big, long, soft chair. He was watching the big, bright screen. I felt I should have attention. I sat in front of him and stared at him. I was demanding pets. A minimum of 5 head strokes and 6 ear scritches. I kept staring. I let out a little mrrrrp. I let out a squeaky meow. My hooman said 'Okay then, fluffy chops'. Then he gave me lots of head strokes, oodles of ear scritches, and some chin rubs. This was good, but not enough. I stayed where I was and stared at him again...