I've told you before that I'm not a dog. Well, I'm also not a cow. I'd think that would be obvious. Something that is perhaps not quite as obvious as the fact that I am *not* a cow, is the fact that I don't even know if I like cows. I've never met a cow or seen one in real life (unless you count one of those reindeer things Santa always brings with him during our Christmas party). So how would I know if I liked cows?
Maybe you're wondering why I'm going on a rant about cows. The reason is this. Last month, Barb L. bought me a soft and fluffy blanket in the Youth Department. And I LOVE it. But it's decorated with cow print. Cow print. I'm a cat.
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| The Cow Blanket |
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| Toe Beans |
Despite it being covered in cow print, it's currently my favorite napping spot. This makes Karen and the upstairs staff sad. I used to spend all my nap time upstairs in the offices. But now that a soft fluffy blanket is downstairs, I kind of spend all my nap time downstairs. Karen has tried to coax me off my blanket multiple times by using bribing techniques. She should know I don't fall for those.
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| Karen trying to convince me to come upstairs |
The worst part about this blanket (besides it suggesting I like cows) is that it frequently disappears. For some reason, the staff thinks it's *gross* that my cat hair gets all over everything when I hang around all day. So they take it home and wash it. Which is nice because it makes it all fluffy again. But it's hard to part with my new napping blanket for even a day. And then I have to rearrange it again when it gets back.
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| Someone messed up my blanket. Again. |
The other potentially bad part about this new napping spot is that it is right in reach of all the *grabby* hands. Good for when I'm being neglected by the staff and need extra scratches. Bad for when I just want to sleep. But also good for being admired by my local fans and adoring staff. I guess when I want to be alone I'll just have to trek upstairs to my second favorite napping spot.
