Dear Woman Who Feeds Me:
I cannot believe you are seriously complaining about me walking on top of the printer at night. You have been kvetching about that stupid printer being broken since my first day of confinement in this wretched place. I am doing my best to try to fix it so you will SHUT UP!!
I have checked every inch of it. I have jumped up and down on top of it. It makes exactly the irritating sound that it should, so that part is working. I have stretched my paw into the paper feeding tray and removed sheet after sheet of blank paper. So that part is fine. And I have personally tested each and every cord going into or out of the printer. They all taste like cords to me. I am stumped.
However, I will continue to investigate each night, in the hopes of uncovering something I may have missed. If you don't like it, go sleep somewhere else.
And speaking of annoying sounds ... please tell the Penny-Cat to stop her constant howling at the back door! You have never once let her go outside. I don't understand why she thinks howling is going to change that.
I'm off to scratch at the basement door, now. Maybe you will finally let me down there today.
-Tink
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Friday, May 2, 2014
Wednesday, April 30, 2014 6:41 p.m.
Dear Tink:
I appreciate the fact that you are a crepuscular animal. I, on the other hand, am not. Please stop pacing back and forth on top of the printer at 4:00 a.m. Neither Strange Man, nor I, enjoy the sound of the feeder tray teetering precariously under your weight like a Tinker Trampoline. Coincidentally, it is the same sound a $100 bill makes leaving my hands and careening into the wallet of the printer repair guy.
If you insist on continuing your daily trek to the plastic paradise known as "HP," please do so during my normal waking hours: 11:00-11:20 a.m., 2:45-3:15 p.m., and midnight to 1:00 a.m. Please consider all other times to be Tinker Taboo.
Failure to abide by these rules will result in your immediate banishment from the sleeping area. To clarify, that means the human sleeping area. Given that every other inch of the house constitutes a feline sleeping area, banishment from all sleeping locations would be impractical. Unless I throw your ass outside. Which, I will admit, I have found tempting on more than one occasion.
You are on thin ice, little one. I would hate to see the ice beneath you crack, just as the printer is likely to do if you don't leave it alone.
Sincerely,
Woman Who Feeds You
I appreciate the fact that you are a crepuscular animal. I, on the other hand, am not. Please stop pacing back and forth on top of the printer at 4:00 a.m. Neither Strange Man, nor I, enjoy the sound of the feeder tray teetering precariously under your weight like a Tinker Trampoline. Coincidentally, it is the same sound a $100 bill makes leaving my hands and careening into the wallet of the printer repair guy.
If you insist on continuing your daily trek to the plastic paradise known as "HP," please do so during my normal waking hours: 11:00-11:20 a.m., 2:45-3:15 p.m., and midnight to 1:00 a.m. Please consider all other times to be Tinker Taboo.
Failure to abide by these rules will result in your immediate banishment from the sleeping area. To clarify, that means the human sleeping area. Given that every other inch of the house constitutes a feline sleeping area, banishment from all sleeping locations would be impractical. Unless I throw your ass outside. Which, I will admit, I have found tempting on more than one occasion.
You are on thin ice, little one. I would hate to see the ice beneath you crack, just as the printer is likely to do if you don't leave it alone.
Sincerely,
Woman Who Feeds You
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