I had big plans for a nice week, but for some reason my game was off. It's not like I take enjoyment out of creating stress for my fursibs, but ... ya know... sometimes things happen. I can't help that I live with a bunch of overly sensitive, geriatric wusses. They were all once young and bouncy like me.
Yesterday after Mom fed me in my ZenDen... she forgot about me. I wasn't released into GenPop until after 9am. By then, while the aroma of bacon purrrmeeated in the air, there was not a single strip of delicious porkness left for me to nom. I felt really bad about that. Flopped down on the coffee table in front of Mom so she was aware just how badly she'd effed up. Even Dadders couldn't cajole me out of my gloom.
I mean, What the Friskies!!! She couldn't save me one fwicken piece of bacon?
That was yesterday. This morning, it got worse. I made a video to remind me of my anguish just in case Mom tries to get back into my good graces with Black Forest Ham. HA! Like that's ever going to reappear in the house. It's been weeks and no BFH to be seen, or tasted. Yeah Yeah Yeah, the store is always out. Oh surrre,
Anyway, Diary. I'm gonna leave this video right here for future reference. I may be a purebred Turkish Van from a high caliber breeder, with my heritage going all the way back to (supposedly) Noah's Ark. But I'm still a sensitive kitteh who just wants his breakfast.