Although I do think Tweaker is onto something (definitely something mysterious--Mom won't let me snuggle on her belly anymore, which has to mean something--she's not normally that bitchy), I have to say she is wrong about the lack of new cat toys. Every day a new cat toy comes into the house. BOXES! WOOHOO!
Check me out, yo!
Something is afoot...
Something strange is going on with Mom and Dad.
First, they built us this wicked awesome outdoor cage that attaches to our own private little door. Cool, right? Yes, it is, actually. Very cool. But I grew suspicious of their intentions when they closed off our access to the upstairs bedrooms. What gives?
Then, back in January and February, Mom started to get agitated even MORE when we would present her with a token of our bile. I barf, therefore I am. That's my motto. But when I'd barf, Mom would freak out and run out of the room. I believe I could hear her own barfing in the background. Sorry, lady, but practice what you preach.
But lately, it's gotten weirder. Mom is fat. And I don't mean squishy Lola-like fat. FAT. Big. Rotund. When I'm at her feet, I can't see her face anymore.
And the stuff!! Normally, "gifts" mean "cool crap for the kitties." But ya know what? We haven't gotten new toys in months. MONTHS. Mom and Dad keep bringing in these things that I could swear are kitty toys, but instead they whisk them away to one of the upstairs "forbidden" bedrooms. It's enough to drive a cat mad, I tell ya.
I wonder, are they planning a big surprise kitty room for us? Or is there something else, something more sinister afoot?