In the Shit House

I'm kind of in the shit house today.  I'd say the dog house, but I'm not a slobbering mutt.  I never sink that low.

It started this morning.  I was feeling great.  I ran downstairs and yelled until the Stooge fed me.

Then, the little non-stooges got up and one of the little ones played with me with my mousie.  And I got  excited and scratched her a little bit.  Well, a little more than a little bit.  It only bled a for awhile.

Of course, she had a fit and that made Stoogess unhappy with me.

So I played by myself for awhile.  Which was fun because I discovered I can climb the drapes with my claws and get on the mantel.  And there, there's this old ceramic horse.  Like really old.  A "piece of crap" old," you know?  So I pushed it off and watched it crash to the ground.  And there was Stoogess yelling, "no, no, you stupid damned cat!" and going on and on about how I chipped its ear off and blah blah blah blah.  Geez.  It's ceramic.  It doesn't need an ear.  I can understand if I had chipped off one of the little non-stooge's ears.

So yeah.  Later, when I climbed up on Stoogess's neck while she was working and I slipped and scratched her on the neck, she didn't even pick me up and cuddle with me.  She just put me on the floor.

So I guess I'm in the shit house.  I'll be cute for the rest of the day and stay on the floor.

Hope they don't find out I used the good sofa for a scratching post.