Binga didn't like it either. My human tortured her by making her pose with it.

She didn't have as much luck with me.

After I figured out that the pink frog blew as a play toy, I dug out some old toys from a couple of Christmases ago, before I was even here. I love the Santa which, amazingly enough, is still mostly in one piece.

The red-and-green sparkly ball wasn't as lucky. First I tore off as much of the green mesh as I possibly could (my human was really annoyed at having to pick up all those little pieces before I ate them). Then somebody stepped on it and now the bell doesn't work anymore.

"You should like Christmas toys," said my human. "For a cat, every day is Christmas." I can't help it if I love to play! Sometimes I get so riled up I'm beside myself.

All this playing is exhausting, too.

At least I don't get into as much trouble as Binga. She tries to sneak onto the balcony over the dining room, where she's not allowed. What's worse is the balcony leaks and after the last rain, part of the dining room ceiling fell in. When my human heard the crash, at first she thought it was one of us cats making trouble.

Her boyfriend and a pal covered it in time for the next rain. They also temporarily covered the balcony with tar to keep more water out. Binga managed to sneak out there and got tar all over her feet. The emergency pet clinic said not to let her lick her paws until they were cleaned thoroughly. It's next to impossible to keep Binga from licking anything, so my human and her boyfriend had to put an E-collar on her. Maybe I should have laughed at her misfortune but she looked so frightening with the thing on that I growled at her instead.

»March 2003»
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