Kitty Tales

There is something about my bathroom. I don't know if it's got sensors on the toilet seat, or on the floor, but it always seems that as soon as my pants hit the floor, and my ass hits the seat, all hell breaks loose in this house. Usually the phone starts ringing, or the dogs suddenly start barking wildly. It’s as if some kind of signal goes out, ’Time to mess with Alan, he can’t do anything about it now’.

I was enjoying my little sojourn in the bathroom today when I heard the wailing, and gnashing of teeth coming from Mark.
"You crazy bitch, get off of there! Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit......”
At that point his voice had risen so high that it was out of the range of human hearing. All that I could make out was the clatter of animal claws on the hard floor, running for cover, with Mark stomping after them. The next thing I know, I’m standing in the hallway, pants around my ankles, with a wad of toilet paper balled up in my fist, screaming at Mark to stop.

All afternoon Mark had been working away in the kitchen, and the lovely odor of his baking was wafting through the house. A delicious aroma that promised mouth watering cookies soon. The problem at hand was partially Mark‘s. It seems that he had put his half finished cookies on the dining room table for cooling, knowing full well that Fat Kitty has the ability to get up there. A short leap up onto a chair, another onto the table, and it was cookie time. This was what had created the storm while I was engaged in my private business. I understand the distress of Mark, but Fat Kitty only devoured one of the cookies, and nibbled on three others before he discovered her indiscretion. For that I interrupted my quiet time. I hope Fat Kitty knows that she owes me for this one, I saved her life at the expense of my dignity.