Furball Frankie

I has a hot. I has too much floof. Needs to find somewhere cool. Cool and dark. Nope - not the hall cupboard. Not my hooman's clothes cupboard. Not the cupboard with the hot water thingy in it. Not the bottom shelf, behind the soft chair. Not under the table. Ah, got it - this'll do. This space in the hooman's food room, behind the thing that pulls out. I think I'll stay here all day.    

What do you call a kitty who's unresponsive? Catatonic! 😹 Where do kitties buy all their goods from? A catalogue! 😹 What do you call a feline disaster? A catastrophe! 😹 What do you call a kitty who gets things started? A catalyst! 😹 Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!      

I like breakfast. I like dinner. I just like to eat. Usually, I'm happy to eat on my own - om nom nom. But sometimes I like company. Sometimes I like my hooman to be with me. Sometimes I need him to stand by me while I munch, so he can pat my fluffy butt and stroke my back. ...otherwise I find it hard to eat my whole meal, and will only lick the jelly off the top. Sometimes kitties need reassurance.

When I'm lying on the window sill or a cushion, my hooman will often come over at random and say things to me. So, just to be clear... I know that I have a 'gorgeous floofy face'. No, you cannot touch my feets. Yes, I'm aware that I'm cute. I have no idea what 'little schmoopie doopie chops' means. You may follow 'loooook at that fluffy belly' with belly rubs. The answer to 'Do you want ear scritches?' will always be yes. 'Oh hiiiiiiiiiiiii!' is weird, high-pitched, and hurts my little ears. I don't recognise this song: 'Sweeeeet Frankie chops - duh, duh, duh - good purrs never felt so good!' 'Face smooshes' are annoying. So are 'nose boops'. Yes, I would like to rest my chin on your hand while you stroke my head. That is all.

My hooman was in his food room. He was making something. It didn't actually smell too good. Then he went to get a cooking thing, and opened a cupboard to do so. I like open cupboards. I think I'd seen this one before. I couldn't remember. I went in. It was dark. I wandered further in. I had a look around. I had sniffs. There was nothing interesting in there. A very dull cupboard. I meowed my disappointment to my hooman. Then I hopped out and washed my paws.  

I'm sure my hooman is mad. When I'm resting, and even when I'm napping, he comes into the room to give me belly rubs. I like belly rubs, so I purr and close my eyes. But then he often does something weird. He takes his big face and buries it in my belly fur, shouting 'belly nuzzles!' Why does he do this? I feel violated. I can't do it back to him, as his belly is much bigger than mine, but nowhere near as fluffy. It is squishy though. I'm going to get him back by standing on his head at 4am...

What a pleasant way to be woken up! I was having a little nap on the window sill and was dreaming of chasing meeces through a sunny field. Suddenly the smell of chicken entered my dreams...mmmm! My catty nose was activated. I opened my eyes...and my hooman was holding out some chickeny biscuits for me. Dreamies - my favourite! I don't like it when he holds them. I like them to be placed in front of me, then I can choose which ones to eat first. He went to the other side of the window sill and I followed his hand. Then he put them down. I munched them one by one...then I looked at him for more. He gave me some more. I munched them too. I gave him a squeaky meow, but he said 'No more Frankie - you'll get fat, like daddy'. I licked my chops. Thanks, hooman!