Dinsky Sunday

I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to write today. Aynex is pis**ng the hell our of me. Excuse my French. I want out! What is the point of living with a quilter if you cannot play with all the shiny things? There's pins and needles and safety pins and scissors that look so much fun but every time I get my paw on them, the Mortal takes it away. I know it is nice that there is all these quilts laying around and everywhere you go in the house, there is a comfy place to take a nap. Then there is all that colorful fabric that is always so neatly organized by color that I love to mess up. And then there are those spools of thread that are so much fun to roll on the floor. But come on! Let me play with those pins! That's all I ask! I'm trying to show her that I am mad and I want to find a better Mortal so every time she opens the door in a very sneaky way, I ran out. If I could only figure out how to get past the porch railing, I'll be free of her, FREE I TELL YOU! But I don't want to talk about it.


Anonymous said...

Hang in there, Dinsk! I know it's tough! Feline wisdom eludes the mortals. They learn so slowly, but they do learn. You will be in my thoughts.


Anonymous said...

Dinskey- Just a word of encourgement. "You are the cat's meow".Garfield