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8:24 p.m. - 2006-11-26 Making it up to poor lil AbbyI once read that a cat's job is to walk around, smell things and make sure nothing changes. My cat Abby takes her job very seriously. Change, even slight change really upsets her. When we moved a year and a half ago, we locked her in the bathroom while the movers were here. We all went to the new house, leaving Abby, her litter box, food and water in the locked bathroom. After unloading the furniture, we returned to the old house for the animals. As we approached the bathroom door, we heard a terrible howling that had no doubt been going on for hours as she was almost hoarse. We opened the door and she bolted out into the empty living room, noticed that all the furniture was gone and went into an epileptic seizure. The change was just too much for her. Thanksgiving morning, she knew something was up when I got up early but didn't go to work and set about rummaging around the kitchen. A while later, Mike and I rushed out the door. I came back alone and continued to rummage around the kitchen. Soon, Michelle came over, and we rummaged around the kitchen some more. Michelle looked at her and said "Hi Abby". With a panicked look on her little kitty face she let out this Meow/Cry/Scream/Wail sound of complete agony. She didn't know it was about to get even worse. I disappeared again, then a bunch of strangers (and Abby hates other people) let themselves into my house and then they began to rummage and mill about my kitchen. No one she knew was in HER house. A bit later, I came home without Mike (still not normal) yet the people just wouldn't go away. Finally they left but her daddy was still not there and his bed was emptly all night long. Poor Abby just layed looking miserable in one spot all night long and wouldn't let me touch or cuddle her. The next day, she was still kind of hincky so I cut up some turkey real small and smothered it in gravy. I could almost see sparks fly as she scarfed it down. After the turkey, I squirted a mound of whipped cream on the plate and let her lick the plate clean. Later that night, she let me pick her up and snuggle her and I heard a strange growling sound come from her tummy. I am sure what I fed her was not healthy, and I will most likely pay for it when I move a piece of furniture in the near future and find dried cat puke under it but she sure enjoyed it. Now, Daddy is home, Mommy has stopped rummaging around the kitchen and all those horrible people have gone home. Ahhhh....life they way it should be...at last. Purrrrrrrrrr P. I. Yarnsmith
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