Stygia: Where do you sleep? Well, last night I found my way into a suitcase that was slightly open. In case you think this was an easy thing, think again. I got halfway in, and that darn Abby came up and started sniffing my undertail area; I admit, I panicked a bit. I lost my footing. It took me at least a whole 'nother minute to haul the rest of myself into the suitcase, and Mr. R had the nerve to laugh at my efforts.
But I got in. And it was good.
A much safer bet is being in repose next to a pair of Ms. C's smelly socks, as you can see here:
From this position, it's easy not only to gaze at Ms. C doing whatever she is doing, but also to keep my senses open to what kind of trouble Abby could be concocting now.
Abby: For those of you who have been left with the idea that I am a classless cat from Stygia's tale above, just check out the unaltered photographic evidence to the contrary:
Here I am, swaddled in an Italian silk scarf, atop a plush down blankie. Can you think of anything more classy and better-scented than natural silk and down? OK, I agree, Ms. C's socks are not that bad, but I have class! No matter what she says.