Following BinBagGate last week, I have two questions:
1. How?
2. Why?
The first of these is relatively easy to answer: we suspect that Louis Catorze actually tried to get into the bin bag – I KNOW – and, in thrashing around inside, somehow rolled it across the floor and tipped it over. The thought of this repulses me to my very core because, that very morning, I cuddled the little sod in bed.
Oui, Mesdames and Messieurs: I ALLOWED A CAT, WHO HAD JUST BEEN INSIDE A BIN BAG, INTO MY BED. I may, in my half-asleep state, even have felt his damp fur and assumed it were rainwater, not realising that it was actually bin juice. (I don’t recall if he felt wet or not. To be honest I daren’t think too hard about it.)
As for the second question, we are completely lost. Why would a noble monarch, the elder statesman of vampire Chats Noirs, want to climb inside a disgusting bin bag (other than because we wanted and expected him to leave it alone, of course)?
Cat Daddy and I will probably spend the rest of our lives trying to understand it. Catorze, however, having successfully traumatised me from this ridiculous escapade, is busily planning the next.
louiscatorze.com 
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