I am the baby of the The Party Cats clan, just a wee three-and-a-bit-months old. Our TFS is in real trouble these days. She claims she has been busy with two “Conferences,” but all I know is that she has been gone all the time, leaving at the ungodly hour of7am every morning and crawling back to us around 8pm. Whoever this Conferences is must be getting all of my treats and catnip, because I sure haven’t gotten any lately.
The only good part is that the laundry has piled up and Sam and I have fun chasing each other up and down Mount Dirty Pants. I like to drag single socks all over the house so that TFS can’t find matches when she wants them. I also help out by jumping in any empty or semi-empty laundry basket right before she dumps a load of clothes in it, and then mewing piteously until TFS gets all the crap out of the basket. Then I curl up in there for a nap.