Furball Frankie

Hooman came home yesterday, and he'd been somewhere different. I could tell. His legs were bare. He was in those short trowsers he wears when it's hot. And those legs smelt different - they smelt funny. They smelt of salt, and fish, and mud, and dirt. They smelt a bit oily too. And stuff was coming off of him. When he removed his feets covers, a fine grit fell on the floor. Then when he took off the feets covers he has underneath his main feets covers, even more grit fell out. I sniffed it. It was like the stuff in my wee tray, but thinner. My hooman saw me sniffing it and said 'That's sand, Frankie'. I blinked at him. I woke up this morning and there was even more 'sand' on the floor. It's everywhere. I don't like it. I hope my hooman gets rid of it. Weird gritty stuff.

My hooman is loud. I know he likes to talk to me in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. I'm not sure why hoomans do this - it's annoying. Where I can, I ignore him. I is too busy cleaning my feets, chasing dust, or napping. If I needs food or fuss, then I sometimes listen. But if he's simply calling my name across our home, then I generally ignore him. It's not worth twisting my ears round for. Too much effort. I like them to stay as neat, forward-facing triangles. If I hear a packet of food open, or my hooman comes home, or someone is talking outside, or I can hear a bird...then it's worth twisting my ears. Other than that, they stay in the one position.

I likes to sniff things. It's part of my job - to make sure things are in order in our home. Today I was particularly busy. I sniffed chairs. I sniffed cupboards. I sniffed the table. I jumped up and sniffed bits of the kitchen. I sniffed my hooman. But something was particularly whiffy - I could smell it from a distance. I went into our napping quarters. The smell got stronger. I located the smell. It was a pair of my hooman's trowsers. I don't mind them smelling of my hooman, but these have been hanging around a while. They're too stinky - too strong for my little catty nose. I meowed my concerns to my hooman. He just said 'You're so cute!'...and stroked my head. I meowed my concerns again. He booped my nose. Idiot.

It's been a hard day. After an initial flomp onto the bed, I had some thinks. I sat and thinked. I thinked about other cats. I thinked about chicken. I thinked about my hooman. I thinked about naps. I thinked about biscuits. I thinked about ear scritches. I thinked about belly rubs. I thinked about squirrels. I thinked about birds. I thinked what I should rub my face on next. It was exhausting. I had a sleepy. I napped.

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.