Moosings of Moo
The Laser Dot of the skies
I have become victimised by it. That laser dot of the skies. That which makes my dry food even greater torment, that which causes my fur to explode from me in mushroom cloud-esque plumes, making stealth, making stalking, almost impossible. My suffering is endless. Endless…
I have been dancing with the mat of blue, that which offers toe bean relief… and yet I cannot rely on it, cannot be seen to be so weak, so reliant on that provided by the tiny headed one. Though, I must say the laser dot of the skies seems to be her kryptonite also, and so I am torn. Torn between occupying the status of unfortunate fuzzy puddle, and of watching her take bae from me day by day, like a slow drip of ice water just out of reach, tormenting me with my lack of opposable thumbs.
The tiny headed hooman is also proving to be the least of my problems these days, with the buzzing of many flying tormentors which buzz in the air, mocking me. It is most undignified.
Oh, what is this sorcery?
There has even been a decline in one of my most simple pleasures, the fuzzy blankets. I am now forced to lay before a groaning, whirring beast of metal and find intermittent merciful release. It ruffles the fur, and yet for some reason I cannot bring myself to attack it, not as the cooling fingers roll over me, caressing my underbelly and the tiny feets. The feets, the toebeans, the cool breath of this thing they call the fan, it is simply irresistible to me. I have also taken great pleasure in lapping up this relief and preventing the tiny headed one from being reached by the monster’s touch. She does not deserve bae and the fan’s full attention.
That’ll show her.
She becomes more entitled by the day.
In more unfortunate news, the long scorn of the skies laser dot has caused irregular hair ball harvest, and I have found myself spewing these delightful presents all over my domain, giving me a sore throat. The hoomans, as ever, are ungrateful for my gift and blind to my pain.
Perhaps the only good thing about this entire ordeal is the lack of coverage undertaken by bae. His bare legs are on full display, covered in a thick coat of luscious fur, which is so very desirable. Unfortunately, my glossy, silken haired hero has been discovered by other cats in the vicinity, who continue to skulk around my domain, staring at me with envious eyes and causing me to have to plot their untimely demise.
In particular, Black Cat, who I have already bitch slapped once this summer continues to skulk, all wide eyes and twitching whiskers. I have come to conclude the inevitable, the inevitable of all who are not my bae: she must be eliminated. All I need is a spoon… a spoon and a moment alone and BAM, Black Cat will no longer be vying for the attention of my man either.
Anyhow, I must return to lounging, such torment from the laser dot of the skies demands liquid form many times a day, though I am yet to find it appeased, yet to discover the secret to it perishing so completely that I’m never subject to this unjust torment again.
Stay cool, but don’t give in to the blue mat. You know you’re better than that.