The other night, I carried my cat to bed instead of listening to the half hour of meowing when he suddenly notices I’m not in the room. You know, the other room. The other room of the two rooms. So, we went to the bedroom. It was dark, I was tired, and I tripped over a bag next to my bed. As I’m cartwheeling towards the closet and nightstand, I somehow manage mid-flail to place Mobi gently on the floor to protect him from my own freewheeling weight.
He lands safely as all kitties do. I, on the other hand, land ass over head into the closet doors, my head wedged in between those doors and the nightstand. Unfazed by my whimpers and attempts to dislodge myself, he casually sauntered out of the room to grab a snack.
As a tribute to his undying devotion to me, I made him a collage. (And in case there’s a need SOON, it can be used as a CV.)
It’s so hard to believe anything can be that cute and that dangerous at the same time.
I love you, Mobi, even though I really think you’re trying to kill me.