Waitaminute. That sounded weird. Which was exactly what I intended. Let me explain. Once when I dragged James along to the yarn store, he found a book of crochet patterns for pets. One of these was a chenille "cat in a bag" -- a big bag for your cat to hang out in. We figured the cats would love this. So tonight I've been whipping it up. Super bulky yarn, so it's going fast.
But I made the mistake of setting it down for a minute. And apparently Katie knows exactly what it's for, because she just wandered over and curled up on top of it. And will not move so I can finish it. She's currently sitting here giving me this look like "What, bitch? I know it's for me anyway. Stop giving me that look. I'm not moving." Which is especially ironic because James wanted me to make Heidi's first. I've tried to explain to him that it doesn't matter which one is supposed to be for which one, because they don't care, and they're colorblind anyway.
For all James' claims that they're my cats, he sure doesn't act like it. He announced the other day that "you shouldn't use cheap yarn to make the kitties' bags, you should use nice yarn because they like nice yarn." I My reply to this was that I wasn't using ten-dollar-a-skein hand-wash-only yarn to make something they're just going to barf and poop on.
She hasn't even got it right. She's supposed to sit in the bag, not on the bag. Stupid kitty.
ETA: I got tired of waiting and pulled her off the bag so I could finish it. She gave me the most pissed-off meow. Now she's sitting here glaring at me. Stupid kitty.
ETA 2: She's now chewing on the yarn as I'm crocheting it. Well, at least I picked yarn they'll like. Stupid kitty.
I keep telling you guys how stupid Katie is.
Tonight Show audience: "How stupid is she?"
Yesterday I heard some disturbing banging around. At first I thought it was the landlords' dog on the stairs, but I slowly realized that the sounds were coming from within my apartment, by the washer and dryer. I headed over to check.
There was Katie, stuck behind the dryer. Don't ask me how she managed to do that. And she didn't seem too disturbed by it, either. She'd meow back pitifully at me when I meowed at her, but showed no other signs of distress.
Like a good kitty mommy, I came to the rescue, throwing all my weight against the dryer to make enough room for her to get out.
She just stared at me. Even when I started shouting "Dammit, Katie, move!"
Eventually I gave up until James came in (yes, I know, take away my feminist card). After finally getting the furry little idiot out, he announced, "Next time she does that, we're leaving her back there for two hours after we realize she's there." Sadly, I think Katie is too stupid to learn the lesson there.
And within five minutes, what is Katie doing? Climbing around on top of the dryer, ignoring my yells.
But what concerns me the most is that later I caught her on my phone with R. Kelly's producer, trying to pitch something she called "Trapped Behind the Dryer."
Katie hopped up on the bed, walked over me, and went right up to Heidi.
Then the two of them put their heads down... and nuzzled.
Then they did it again!
Then Heidi washed Katie's face!
Okay, so they were back to chasing each other within the hour, but that was okay because I was already DED OF TEH CUTE.