I like sleeping on top of the washer, but it was too rackety and bumpety for that this morning. So while Smitty was out, I decided to scout out the cubby which he seems to claim as his purrivate purrovince. And I've got my own catitude about that. Hmmmm...it could use a woman's touch.
And what's this? No quilt? Please repurr that deficiency as soon as pawsible, will you?
When Smitty came back inside, he said I had to get down.
Nothin' doin', my furriend. You can sleep over there in that chair.
And please refurrain from bothering me because I'm going to take a nap too.
Then my mom and dad left to go to some quilt shops. I hope they came back with some quilts because we're sleeping on store-bought blankets here. Ew.
When the laundry was finished, I resumed my propurr place on the top of the washer, and I let Smitty use the cubby tempurrarily.
He'a so impurrtinent. He said he's never moving again and that it's his cubby purrmanently now.
But I don't think so. What do you think?