Those of you who have been following SpittySpeaks for some time probably know of my box phobia. While other Kitties cavort with careless abandon inside every box that comes their way, I avoid them like the plague.
The day before yesterday, the Human brought home some mail-order purchases that arrived in a fine, wide and shallow cardboard box. She looked at it, and she looked at me, and she looked at the box again.
"Hmmm," she said.
After removing the contents, she carefully placed my SBB inside, and Kitties---look at me now! And what's more, I have made a couple of small incursions into the cardboard.
Now, yes, I do realize that you are all laughing up your sleeves (or would be if you had sleeves), saying, "Spitty! You're not even IN that box! You're on top of it! What a loser!"
And to Kitties inclined to such views, I acknowledge the truth of their position.
Still! It is a box. I am sort of in it. I have chewed and clawed myself some cardboard.
I say: It counts.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Beauteous CK and I cruised by the Plaza Hotel and toasted the Holiday Season with Niptinis at the elegant Champagne Bar.