"...your mission, Agent Feline, should you choose to accept it, is to traverse the hallway and dining room, ending up deep in enemy-cat territory, where you will penetrate their private litter box and leave a steaming pile of concentrated obnoxiousness. That'll show those dirty rotten other cats not to bogart the best sunny spots and the place right by the heater! This tape will self-destruct in five seconds...."
They're all doing it. It seems this is some kind of tactic. I'm imagining how it might work if humans thought that way: The year is 1942. Deep in Germany, a door slams open and a rumpled, pudgy, sweaty Allied paratrooper with a three-day growth of beard saunters out of Reichsmarshall Goering's private latrine, clenching a smoldering, cheap cigar in his teeth while he tucks in his shirttails: "Y'might not wanna go in there fer a' coupl'a days, Herman...." Yeah.
Our Maine Coon is much more direct. Sniff, hiss, WHACK, run away.
ReplyDeleteOh, they're doing that, too! Mucho hiss'n'growl.
ReplyDeletefece mail?
ReplyDeletebetter the box than your shoes!
ReplyDeleteTerritorial marking.
ReplyDeleteI don't know why, but I find this terribly amusing.
ReplyDelete