I now believe cats dream they’re humans. I mean, the way you dream you are the princess and I’m the knight in shining armor. Yeah. Or how do they just blurt out those human baby wails in these wee hours?
It must be some real drama outside my crib; call it “The Purrfect Show”. I hear some young felines giggling at the door mat near where I left my socks-in-shoes peel-off. No. It can’t be because of the Australian map cut out of the heels of my left sock. I guess they think that smell is funny.
The audible farts from beyond the ceiling board just reveal who was in my can of baked beans when i was away. These gluttoned, whiskered peskies got brains. I found my beans licked clean and rinsed dry, then safely returned into the can just as I’d left them. Then they performed a ham-burglary on my KFC’s pack.
How do they even force into the house? Whichever sealing trick you employ, these pussies get some breakthrough. Talk of the power of prayer? Or how did that ‘cross’ keyholder, always hung beside the picture frame, find it’s way to the shrine-looking chimney? And, the shapeless pancakes i roastedly overdid jana morn as i downloaded clips of CanadianGP? Didn’t I leave the blackened discs in my trashcan? Well, the burnt offering lies next to the ‘crucifix’ in the ‘shrine’. A whole serving of the dark consecrated clout is on my stove.
Paranormal! No. Cut those thoughts. It’s real. I don’t believe in those stupid, haunty ghost-lings. And, i never will, until i find my laundry sparkling, dishes done and my emails read. Hey ghosts; get the hint? Wake up call.
So, who owns all these beasts in my hood? Wait, cats behave like their human owners; myth? Dear married neighbours, if your 4-legged darlings sneak out of your homes at night or when you’re away; well, your lovely honey girl … … … Or maybe it’s your daughter. No! It’s not him! Fight over that losers!