Our son Wes (who's 22) took good care of Millie and Mollie while we were gone, although you'd never know that to hear them tell it.
What?
Not enough lap time?
He didn't maintain your feeding schedule of smelly food at precisely 4:30 p.m. every day?
He set your tail on fire how many times?
Oh, my . . .
As far as Mollie was concerned, things did not improve once we arrived home. It was less than a week before Halloween. Because Mollie's been known to disappear for days at a time, we decided to keep both cats inside until after the festivities.
*sigh*
You're never, ever going to let me go outside ever, ever again, are you?
I didn't think so.
Poor kitties. I don't think they understand the concept of later.
Our other cat, Millie, could hardly wait until I sat down and put my feet up so that she could sprawl along the full length of my legs.
Comfy there, Millie?
Gee, if only I could be certain that she's relaxed . . . contented . . . sleeping well . . . feeling loved and pampered . . .
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