louiscatorze.com

Je crie, donc je suis

I am not impressed with Louis Catorze. Yestetday morning I was an hour and three-quarters late with his breakfast*, and the little shit absolutely destroyed my forearm with his digging and scratching. Yes, this is the same cat who is ambivalent about food. For goodness’ sake.

*In my defence it was my birthday the day before, and I’d had eight shots of vodka after barely drinking all year.

In other news: oh. Mon. Dieu. Remember when Catorze kept me awake by thrashing around in a plastic bag, and I couldn’t understand why I was unable to locate the bag? 

Well, it turns out that there was no plastic bag. In actual fact the sound came from an old picture, wrapped in bubble wrap, which was standing in a corner of the room, propped up against a wall and hidden by a folded-up duvet cover. Obviously it wasn’t hidden well enough, because the bastard cat had located it and was trying to break through the bubble wrap. 

He has previous when it comes to this kind of behaviour. The last time was much worse, but he hasn’t really done it since on account of us not having bubble wrap lying around. Now we know that we have to keep it away from him, adding another tiresome task to the already-long list of tiresome tasks that we have to do because of him.

As you can see, the little sod is deeply regretful of all the bother he has caused. Doesn’t this picture just scream “deep regret”? 

Dreaming of bubble wrap.

For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com

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