I opened the curtain and disrupted her warm nest of sun and insulation. Ok that one’s fair
There was a big stinky turd in the litter box. It was hers. She’d just laid it. And while I was cleaning up that litter box she went and dropped another one in the OTHER litterbox because we have more than one cat so of course we have more than one freakin’ litterbox.
There was a turd in the other litterbox
While she was yelling at me about the turd situation Cerys climbed up on the sun-drenched dining room table. The entire table is in front of a north facing window and is sun drenched. It is six feet long. They are two foot cats.
I attempted to use logic at her re the whole dining room table usurpation.
Cerys continues to exist. A cat she has co-habited with since 2012. A cat who literally came out of her. A cat who only exists because she decided to get railed on the hood of our old datsun. This is my fault.
I slid her across the polished floorboards like a fat beige hockey puck. I regret nothing.
I feel like Misha is perhaps the cat equivalent of a cranky chain-smoking nonna who is pissed off at the world (life is too hard and nobody understands), and at her son for still living off Centrelink (back in the 90s).
Things Misha has yelled at me about today
I opened the curtain and disrupted her warm nest of sun and insulation. Ok that one’s fair
There was a big stinky turd in the litter box. It was hers. She’d just laid it. And while I was cleaning up that litter box she went and dropped another one in the OTHER litterbox because we have more than one cat so of course we have more than one freakin’ litterbox.
There was a turd in the other litterbox
While she was yelling at me about the turd situation Cerys climbed up on the sun-drenched dining room table. The entire table is in front of a north facing window and is sun drenched. It is six feet long. They are two foot cats.
I attempted to use logic at her re the whole dining room table usurpation.
Cerys continues to exist. A cat she has co-habited with since 2012. A cat who literally came out of her. A cat who only exists because she decided to get railed on the hood of our old datsun. This is my fault.
I slid her across the polished floorboards like a fat beige hockey puck. I regret nothing.
I feel like Misha is perhaps the cat equivalent of a cranky chain-smoking nonna who is pissed off at the world (life is too hard and nobody understands), and at her son for still living off Centrelink (back in the 90s).
Ha! I get the best mental picture from this description 😾
Just described my mum’s mum to a T 😂😂😂
Misha sounds like such a fun character to live with 😆
Absolute demon shitbag.
Sounds like her and Alfie are kindred spirits!