Life of Riley

“Ow! Ow! YEEEOW! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOWTCH!!”

Yes, I did indeed vocalise in this very vulgar manner tonight. I was quite overcome with pain. My furry human was busying himself with doing something about the monkey chow they eat at night, and I was in my usual position right at his feet. Well, I was only offering to take care of any little fishy tidbits that happened to find their way to the floor.

And then he stepped back and put his big monkey foot down HARD, RIGHT on my little paw, and it HURT. I screamed loudly and ran away.

My monkeywoman came quick! She ran right up from the other room and they both approached me as I stumbled away in some pain and confusion. It was like reliving a nightmare, but then they both stopped and spoke softly and gently to me and to each other.

I shook off my pain-befuddlement and moved as quick as I could up the stairs to the sleeping room, in some embarassment for being caught out. I had shown fear, and I felt very small and vulnerable again. They followed, carefully.

Oh no! For a moment I was afraid of even my beloved monkeys! I shuddered with fear, but it lessened as I realized that already my paw hurt less and less. Not a serious injury, then. Of course, I should have realized that when I was able to run up the stairs, but still.

I jumped, rather gingerly, up on to the bed to my secure place, a blanket placed for my personal use at the foot of the bed. My monkeys came close, reassuring me that they meant me no harm. My lady petted me softly and felt my legs and paws gently. She seemed relieved, and then she petted my furry one, and he seemed even more relieved and petted me over and over again. It was clear that abject apologies were being offered, and so I accepted with a tentative “bump” to his paw. And then all was loving and good and I was not scared any more. I love my humans, but they certainly are clumsy.

I recovered my sang-froid, and later was able to play a couple of good games of Stringfish! and Get That Red Dot!!1! with my furry man. Friends again. However, I shall be much more cautious about those big feet-things they have. I’m fine now, although you may kiss the paw if you wish.

I don’t think I like feet much at all. My monkey lady has big purple fake feet on her back paws right now and they make a scary SHH! - SHH! noise. I did not think it was amusing when she approached just now to play a game of I’m Coming To Get You!

If I could talk Gibberish (the language that they speak) I would tell her “Lose the purple feet, please.”

Perhaps I shall have to take drastic steps to render them…unwearable. More on that later.

Ha! My monkeys left the computer unguarded again. Silly monkeys. I took the opportunity to check in on a few of my brethren and sistren in the Cat underground.

Caveat Lector | Good morning, housemonkey

Didi came in for her morning trample bright—well, dark and early this morning. Yawning, I got up to feed her, and check in by IM with a friend of mine in Australia.

Turning on the light, I discovered that one of them hurled on my winter cloak. Good morning, housemonkey! Isn’t it a lovely morning!

Good work, Didi! I commend you. I myself have had a few opportunities to hurl. I was unable to find a coat, but I did have a go at the living room rug (the nice soft one) again.

I was irked that my monkeywoman took my fishing pole toy away from me, so later on I left her a couple of messages in the front hall place. She had foolishly left my toy out on the counter, and then both monkeys went out into the place where the noisy moving boxes live. So I jumped up and captured the mouse that is somehow invisibly attached to the fishing pole, and took it toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, the fishing pole was chasing me! It wanted the mouse back! I ran up the little stairs and the pole stopped, but then I couldn’t keep going with the mouse.

So I stopped and chewed at the almost-invisible string and snapped it. The fishing pole stopped chasing me and the mouse.

In fact, the way the string coiled up begged for further investigation and attack, so I chewed it into several pieces.

Then the monkeylady came back and made very surprised sounds. She
tried to pick up all the pieces of string and she put the fishing pole away in the cupboard, but she didn’t know I saved some pieces for later, and left them for her to find when I hurled some messages in the hall. Ha.

The mouse is now completely mine and I carry it around as is my right. My mouse now.

She’ll have to get something else to attach to that fishing pole thing, but I bet she won’t leave it out where I can get to it again.