Shortly after last week’s post, the unimaginable, unthinkable, most devastating thing happened.
As I made my daily venture to the fridge and meowed in my usual polite manner in order to obtain my favorite turkey treat, I was instead given — CHICKEN!
In all my cat years, this kind of atrocity has nevfurr happened befurr.
You see, because of the paw-demic, my purrents now make the fewest possible trips to the turkey store, and appurrently miscalculated how long they had until more turkey was needed to replenish my stash.
The most horrifying aspect of this entire nightmare was that I had to wait until their next weekly shopping trip until I’d see even a slice of my beloved turkey again. Needless to say, Mr. Handsome-pants — as my Mother calls me — has turned into Mr. Grumpy-pants. Thus, I am giving my purrents the silent treatment…
that is, until around 4:43AM, when breakfast is served.