Life According to the Cat

Life according to the cat. 

Let me take a minute to introduce myself. My name is Abby and I'm the cat of the family. When I learned that Cooper was guest posting I thought it only fair that I gave you my take on apartment life. 

Before I get started I thought I might give you a little background about what happened a few weeks prior to moving here. I began to hear my mother talking about something called a bungalow, and to be honest I had no idea what it was. What I do know is that everytime she mentioned it she acted like it was the greatest thing ever. So one day she loaded me up in the car, which I hated, and drove a short distance to this thing called the bungalow. Come to find out, I was basically having to be boarded while the carpets were being cleaned and the house was put up on the market. Whatever that means. 

Now to be fair, my mother did come to visit me almost every day, and we got to spend time hanging out in the playroom, but to be honest I was not a happy camper. So when the day came that Mom picked me up I was quite happy, indeed. In fact I didn't even complain on the ride home. Except, home wasn't home any more. It was actually much smaller, and I heard my Mom and Dad say something about an apartment. Bungalow, apartment...too many new words to learn. 

Mom had to rush off to take care of something related to the move, but Dad spent some time with me helping me get adjusted. I learned later that they had read that it could take weeks for a feline such as myself to adjust to a new place. But guess what? I loved it! It was much smaller than my old house, but I liked the fact that everything was close by. Mom and Dad gave me my own room, and my litter box was tucked discreetly in the closet nearby.  A girl has to have her privacy you know. 

I'd say it took about thirty minutes for me to decide that this place was WAY better than the bungalow, and I'd better not complain because I might get sent back. I pretty much spend my days doing what cats basically do eating, resting, and grooming myself way too much. If I can get away with it I like to eat the dog's food (notice I didn't acknowledge him by name), and I spend a lot of time trying to sneak into my Mom and Dad's room. Apparently Dad has something called allergies, and he doesn't like me sleeping on his pillow. 

I've heard the dog brag about going for walks, and riding in the car, but to be honest I've never been one to like to travel. I guess you could say that I'm a homebody. As long as my mother or father's lap is available at my command I'm pretty much content to live this apartment life. 

You know what they say, "Cat's rule and dogs drool!"