By The Cat Called Bob
So I was minding my own business taking a nap in the sun after a quick afternoon snack when suddenly I was jarred from my peaceful feline slumber by a teeny tiny little fuzzball missile that had launched itself at me… violently I must say.
She attacked and began to eat my tail like it was a sausage. I later learned her named is Princess. I believe it should be Carnivore. She didn’t weigh two pounds but she may as well have been 10,000 pounds of TNT.
I swatted at her a bit to try to get her to leave me alone. That did no good. It just encouraged her to be more “playful.”
It wasn’t just me she was dive bombing. It is all of the cats here. None seemed to happy to be the targets of a less than two-pound death machine.
I haven’t been ale to quietly and peacefully nap for a month or more now. I have to say it is definitely taking its toll on my “me time” more and more each day.
She just springs as if out of no where like she’s a lightning bolt or a ghost of some kind moving between realms. It’s like “POOF” she’s there and “POOF” she’s gone.
I’ll keep you all up-to-date on the situation but for now I must go. I feel a sneak attack coming soon.