Pet Peeve

I hate people who call my a Pet Mommy. I am not their Mommy. I have invested a fair amount of time, effort and cash into avoiding being anyone's Mommy, and I think it's gross to call me that. Maid, cook, roommate, FINE. Mommy is just... revolting (shudder).

I'm home, eating breakfast and gathering my work stuff, which means I'm watching the cats at a time that they are accustomed to being on their own. For those of you without pets, they have a routine, and it's very different when we are not around. They're a little startled to get affection off schedule, and they don't especially like it when they realize they're being watched. Y'know, dipping paws in water bowls, jumping on each other, staring at birds, trying to climb into the oven drawer, sniffing the bathroom scale, DOING IMPORTANT STUFF.



I turn the corner and see Grumpy staring intently at the powder room. Now, I like powder room, but I'm not like in love with it. So, I go over to see what the excitement is all about.


Phat is sitting on the throne. He sat there for probably 15 minutes, and tolerated lots of questions, a few photos, and lots of sniffing. I, for the record, did not do any of the sniffing.

A few minutes later, I walk by again, and Grumpy has lots of questions for me - Did you see Phat? He was here (sniff, swish swish) He sat there, but he's not supposed to (swish, sit down) Do you know why? Why? Why did Phat sit there? WHY? (sniff sniff)

Grumpy and I have a lot of these conversations. He's a very chatty guy when he's not asleep.

10 minutes later, I find him on the toilet.