The Cats Came Back

“Well, the cats came back and we thought they’d been goners…” to quote the old song. Bonnie and Clyde have come back home and the whole house is in an uproar.

I don’t mind them coming back, really. They’d just better not take my spot on the couch. I’m not sure how long they’re going to stay, but they’ll be here for a while, I’m sure. Salem doesn’t mind. He’s been looking for someone to chase around the house and into the bathtub.

Cheryl and her kittens, though, are a bit upset. Oh, not that the boys have come home, but the manner in which it was done. I don’t know the full story yet, but you can bet it’s not nice. Seems that Bonnie and Clyde’s pet went away and left them with a stranger and no food. There’s more to it than that, but I promised the boys I wouldn’t go into details that I didn’t understand.

On a different note, Cheryl cut her hair yesterday. My fur’s longer than hers is, but it doesn’t look too bad. Just a bit odd. I don’t have anything to play with when she leans over me any more. She says it feels better, shorter for the hot days of summer. Having a thick fur myself, I can appreciate that she’d want to get rid of some of it. Not that I’m advocating hair cuts, you understand. I like my fur just the way it is.

Cheryl’s been doing other things, too. She’s been getting out more, even if it is just to let us out and her sit on the step in the morning, or going over to Gloria’s or Marie’s for coffee. She’s not as grouchy when she goes out like that, not as grouchy as she was before, anyway. She seems to like going out. I think it’s good for her. Every cat, even hooman ones, should be allowed to go out and chew fresh grass once in a while.

I’m a bit miffed with Cheryl, though. The Box is gone. She did what she calls “cleaning up” and took away my box. She actually filled it with junk and took it out the back door! How rude of her! So, in revenge, I’ve been taking her spot on the couch. If I can’t have a nap in comfort, neither can she. Actually, I kinda like having Cheryl maneouver around me to have her nap. She doesn’t move nearly as much as she used to do, and she’s almost as warm as a cat. And she purrs when she sleeps. That can’t be a bad thing, can it? I wonder why hoomans only purr when they’re asleep? Seems to defeat the purpose of purring.

Well, it’s almost 5am. The sun’s been up for a while, so I should go make sure Cheryl’s up. Maybe today I’ll just meow in her face, rather than poke her under the blankets. Just to be nice. She went to bed early last night, so she should be almost awake by now.