Lots of celebrations chez moi these days. Special Gentleman Friend turned old this weekend, and the day afterward, I marked my sixth year with Mom. There was cake for the humans, and though I deserved something more than usual cat food, Mom withheld canned tuna from me. "They never do anything but smell it and walk away," she reasoned. Well, for all she knows, this was the time I was planning to actually eat it.
Mom is still on Japan time, or maybe it's New York time, but the gist is this: she's generally up at 5am these days. So for SGF's birthday, she went to 24-hour Safeway like the baller she is, and she bought a bunch of balloons. (Apparently, she thought SGF was turning five years old.) Anyway, the balloons scared the hell out of me. Something about the sound of them bumping each other was truly terrifying. After being soothed, though, I returned — mostly because Minou and I really wanted to chomp on those ribbons.
Let it be known: I am mildly concerned that the humans are plotting against me in some misguided attempt to re-create Up with cats.