Saturday, September 22, 2018
Sunday Selfie: The Conversation
THE HUMAN: Spitty, do you have time for a little talk?
ME: Well, I was getting ready for my mid-morning nap. Is it important?
THE HUMAN: I wanted to talk about your choice of receptacle last night when you, uh, barfed.
ME: Yes, I dimly remember that. It was kind of late, wasn't it?
THE HUMAN: Yes, yes it was. In fact, you woke me.
ME: Oh. Sorry, I guess. I mean, excuuuuse me for upchucking and all.
THE HUMAN: It's not so much the barfing, as where it occurred.
ME: And where was that again?
THE HUMAN: In my good shoes. BOTH of them. I mean, I could overlook one as accidental, but . . .
ME: Well, the first one was starting to smell awful, so I switched mid-heave.
THE HUMAN: ::crickets::
UPDATE: After frowing up twice over the past few days, about an hour ago I finally rid myself of a large and lustrous furball. Today I chose to make my deposit on the rug you can see above. Not as good as a shoe, I suppose, but my fur *is* black and it looked quite spectacular. You-Know-Who didn't say anything except, "Poor kitty. I bet you're glad to be rid of it finally." I guess she gets a few points for that.