Holy fucking shit these fucking kittens are going to be the fucking DEATH of me.

I have just spent an HOUR AND A FUCKING HALF searching my flat for an orange and white kitten.

Spike couldn't find her (but I had him searching the wrong room so not his fault. He tried.) Cassie's too busy yowling for sex to care. I searched the cupboards. I searched the fridge. I turned the dog couch upside down in case she'd managed to crawl up into the springs. I was starting to think about prying the side panel off the bathtub. I even looked out-fucking-side, and she'd have to walk through walls to get there.

I'd reached the point of praying out loud with TEARS running down my face when she casually strolled up behind me in the bedroom, yawning and obviously just having woken up from a nice long sleep while I'd been imploding and the other three had been crackmonkeying around the flat.

I still don't know where the fuck she was.

I need a fucking drink now.

...and am now praying out loud with gratitude, for the record.

From: [identity profile] ghost07.livejournal.com


My cats just love doing that to me...When Cuddles was alive, I lost her for over a day...I searched everywhere! then she slid out from under the dresser...which I was sure was too small a hole for her to fit into.

I saw, on Funniest Home Videos, this cat who squirmed under the bathroom door...there wasn't enough room under there for a mouse, and he slid right under it with no problems at all.

I STILL haven't found all of Julius' and Giddy's hidey holes.

Wonder what they'll do to me in the new place?
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