I noticed not a few days ago that the Parentals were packing their rucksacks. The rucksack packing means a longer time away from us. It means it's not just a night or two away, but maybe a whole week.
It's always a time to make sure their bags are checked and on more than one occasion, I tried to get into the bag so that they wouldn't leave me behind. Lillibet thought it was great fun and Faith hates every second of packing and makes Momma's life a misery in the final day. We sure will miss them but also look forward to Uncle Paul coming to feed us.
Of course, the biggie here is that we are reduced to two meals a day and it makes it hard to adjust in the first few days. Our stomaches are still expecting the four small meals a day and to be cut down to two meals a day is both confusing and hurtful to the mind. It's at times like this that I want to pick up the phone to CatLine to complain about our predicament, but I know from experience, that all they will say is 'tough'. You have three water dishes, two square meals a day, snacks in the late evening and games and toys to play with and warm heated beds to sleep in - think your selves lucky they will say. I still feel unloved and starving.
I did make sure that I left copious amounts of sick for Uncle Paul to clean up and Faith poohed on the bathmat for good measure and yet, he still doesn't mind coming to care for us and Faith was just disputing the fact that Momma had left her. Uncle Paul never gets mad with us and just tidies up and washes our blankies. It's meant to make the Parentals feel guilty that they are off getting full on Orb, whilst we are left to compete for false love and the Cat Frenzie toy.
I sit now, looking out of the window waiting for the postman, the milkman, the bin man, Uncle Paul, but hopefully, the Parentals. Please hurry home, Lillibet is growing her fur and you are missing out!
KS =^..^=
It's always a time to make sure their bags are checked and on more than one occasion, I tried to get into the bag so that they wouldn't leave me behind. Lillibet thought it was great fun and Faith hates every second of packing and makes Momma's life a misery in the final day. We sure will miss them but also look forward to Uncle Paul coming to feed us.
Of course, the biggie here is that we are reduced to two meals a day and it makes it hard to adjust in the first few days. Our stomaches are still expecting the four small meals a day and to be cut down to two meals a day is both confusing and hurtful to the mind. It's at times like this that I want to pick up the phone to CatLine to complain about our predicament, but I know from experience, that all they will say is 'tough'. You have three water dishes, two square meals a day, snacks in the late evening and games and toys to play with and warm heated beds to sleep in - think your selves lucky they will say. I still feel unloved and starving.
I did make sure that I left copious amounts of sick for Uncle Paul to clean up and Faith poohed on the bathmat for good measure and yet, he still doesn't mind coming to care for us and Faith was just disputing the fact that Momma had left her. Uncle Paul never gets mad with us and just tidies up and washes our blankies. It's meant to make the Parentals feel guilty that they are off getting full on Orb, whilst we are left to compete for false love and the Cat Frenzie toy.
I sit now, looking out of the window waiting for the postman, the milkman, the bin man, Uncle Paul, but hopefully, the Parentals. Please hurry home, Lillibet is growing her fur and you are missing out!
KS =^..^=
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