It's 08:00 hours and I am in hiding. I've been hiding for about 4 days. Or maybe it's 4 hours. Or maybe it's 4 minutes. Anywho! You see, I was minding my own business, laying on the kitchen table, playing with the plastic fruit mommy bought for me. (In reality I prefer real fruit but that isn't the problem being addressed here!) I started to really enjoy myself and began to roll around as I picked off the plastic grapes from the vine. Suddenly, I heard a loud bang! I thought aloud, "we're under attack!"
Jumping down from the table and flying into the corner of the room behind the comfortable cushiony device, I realized the bomb that went off was actually my mommy's favoritest thing in the world (besides me of course!) It was her cell phone friend which had crashed to the ground and shattered. I knew I was in trouble! I mean, she loves that thing and takes it with her everywhere, even when she uses her litter box. (Gross! Even I don't bring my cell phone to my litter box). I quickly devised a plan to direct this catastrophic event away from Shelby. Of course, my only hope would be to pin this shit on the asshole (you know, the dog) and avoid all punishment.
The little shit-tard keeps some of his disgusting treats in my hiding spots. I only allow this because I like to spit on them from time to time and watch as the moron goes about eating them without even knowing what I've done. Ha!
I took several of the treats and hurled them across the room near where the bomb went off....I mean where the cell phone blew up...I mean broke. The loser, of course, came running down the stairs as I shouted out "do you want a cookie?" He falls for this every time! Regardless of the fact that each time, he has either been kicked in the face, clawed on the back, thrown down the cellar stairs or gotten hot piss thrown in his eyes. Sure enough he started to eat the treats. A moment later, Motha came downstairs to see what had happened. My intelligent creature put two and two together (equals seven) and realized this was the dogs fault! Hurray!! Now, I decides to hang low in my hiding spot so that I wouldn't be tied to this event at all!
Now I am hungry, need to piss and have an insatiable urge to roll around on my catnip. But I must stay in hiding! Motha is cleaning up the pieces of her shattered friend while Mr. loser idiot is locked in his cage in the corner, happily sucking on a dental stick. Good lord is he a moron!
I start to become delirious from my hunger and almost exploding bladder and fall asleep. After about ten days, (or hours or minutes) I awake to see that the dog has been released from his holding cell. He's laying by the door crying that Mommy and Daddy left and will never return. Usually, I use this opportunity to torment the little shit. But today, I have no time! Running faster than when I was being chased last night by that invisible thing which emerges around 02:00 a.m., I jolted up the stairs, grabbed a few morsels of treats and ran into my litterbox!
Victory! I won the battle! I mean, I escaped trouble!
