As you all may know by now, my Mom is a bit of an ovfurr-the-top neat furreak. Thus, it is only on the super rare occasion that I am allowed to indulge in catnip mostly due to the the mess it makes.
Much to my surpurrise, when I meowed very politely fur some paw-ty mix last night, Mom pulled out the bag of catnip instead.
What is going on here?
Is she feeling ok?
Is it Halloween already?
Regardless, I wasn’t about to remind her she grabbed the wrong back of treats.
This stuff makes me do silly things after I smell it and take a couple of nibbles. I roll around in it, lick my chops constantly, and run around like I am once again a crazy kitten. When I’m done I enjoying scaring Mom by looking out the window all wide eyed and bushy tailed with my ears back like someone is looking in furrom the outside. Talk about someone being a scaredy cat – she starts drawing the blinds like we are trapped in some crummy horror movie and promptly sweeps up the mess I’ve made with the catnip.
Mom thinks there is no more catnip left in sight, but little does she know I’ve have a few pieces tucked in my fur — ya know, fur later.