On becoming an urban cat--by Finchley

This morning has been eventful. I got bored at about 5am, so I decided to attack the blinds in my parents' bedroom. Usually I attack my Dad's bottom, but he was facing the wrong way this morning, so I had to settle for the blinds. For some reason, my parents don't really like when I do that, so I got kicked out. In protest, I meowed outside of their door for the next two hours.

Finally, my mom let me in and I took over her side of the bed and tickled my dad with my wiskers until he woke up:

Then I gave him a Swedish massage:


After a hearty breakfast, I sat next to the window and made forlorn noises. Lately my parents have been opening the window and letting me sit on the windowsill. But this morning I had a stroke of luck! The window key is mysteriously not where it's supposed to be (my mom blames my Dad. They'll never figure out that I strategically hid it so they would be forced to take more drastic action for my happiness.)Anyway, because I looked so sad at the window and because I have been systematically shredding one of the chairs in the living room, my mom let me go out in the yard all by myself and I've been out there now for a couple of hours! At first, I just sniffed around our yard a little nervously. Spike came along and tried to scare me, but I'm not really scared of other cats and just keep walking towards them. Spike ran away.

I sniffed around the next door neighbor's yard and then got cornered there by a neighbor cat named Leon. He's fluffy like me and was trying to be tough, but I wasn't really scared. We ended up chillin in my crib:


Urban cathood is the shiz.