I Think My Cat Is IRA.
Boss lost his small, grey mouse - which chirps loudly when he swats it - about a month ago, and nothing I've bought him since has seemed to fill the void. He's been despondent and inconsolable, mewing incessantly about the evils of British imperialism. And then something most unexpected happened.
I awoke one morning last week to see Boss gloating proudly over... is that... could it be... squeaky mouse?! Was he sent off on some secret mission for the Irish Republican Army (it's no secret that Boss has had past affiliations)? Did Boss stage a clandestine raid while I slept to free Squeaky from Al Queda captors?
Obviously not. Cats have short memory spans, and like some kind of feline alzheimer patient, I'm sure he just carried the toy off behind a piece of furniture and forgot all about it. Still, it's fun to imagine that your pet is a secret agent. And to only leave the house during full moons on odd numbered months.
1 Comments:
Boy, that is fun.
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