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Greetings, ye spiffy people.
I apologize for being remiss in my rambling duties. Things have been a bit hectic here, and plus, well, I have a girlfriend now, you know. She's incredibly spiffy.
*insert happy girlfriend haze here*
Ahem. Uh... where was I? Oh, heh. yeah, rambling.
First up, I want to thank Carrie Carr (http://www.carriecarr.com), spiffy bard extraordinaire, for helping me give a rather nifty present to my lovely girlfriend, Kel. That nifty present is all of Carrie's books to date, which Kel will be receiving tomorrow. You rock, Carrie, so very much. Thank you.
In Tango the Wonder Kitty news, he did another interesting thing yesterday. The dishwasher's door was propped open slightly to let the hot air evaporate, and Tango, being his industrious self, used his paw to open the door all the way, climbed up on it, and sat down. And stayed there for several minutes. He looked quite proud of himself. Then he decided to start playing with the dishes in the racks. He looked at me with such a pitiful look on his face when I told him to knock it off.
I'm obviously a mean mommy.
He woke me up again the other night by playing with my printer. He had it making all kinds of noises, some of which I'm pretty sure I haven't heard before. So I covered the buttons with a towel and set something on top, and crawled back in bed. He gave me that pitiful look again when I did that. Then he turned back to the printer and just sat and stared at it.
I am scum who doesn't deserve to "own" a cat.
We go through that every time I take a bath, too. When I walk in the bathroom, I simply say "Tango, bath time!" and he comes running. He's a lot like a dog that way. And it makes him so damned happy. Once I get in the tub, he starts his routine... he tries to get in the cupboard, then he knocks over the waste basket, then he tries to play with the toilet paper and/or the box of tissues. Each time I tell him no, and he looks at me, pitifully, then moves on to his next project. Finally he settles for cuddling with my cocker spaniel, or sitting on the counter and staring at me.
The poor boy... I wonder how he can survive how badly I treat him. Have I mentioned I have to keep a spot clear on top of a shelf which sits directly across from my printer, so Tango can sit there and gaze upon the object of his obsession? He also sits behind me in my desk chair, perched so he can, you guessed it, stare at the printer. When he lays on my chest when I'm sitting at my desk, he always has to lay where he can keep watch of the printer.
What can I do? The boy's in love. Far be it from me to get between him and his... uh, machine. It's a love story for the modern age. In fact, I think it would make a fantastic movie. Yep, a romantic comedy starring Morris the Cat and an HP All-In-One printer/scanner/copier. The part of me would be played by Cruella DeVille. It would be a big hit.