I did not try to cuddle with the Woman at 2:30 this morning.
I absolutely did not.

I only jumped up onto the bed and curled up on her chest to shove fur up her nose. The fact that it involved having to rub my face against hers repeatedly is only coincidental. I was just trying to annoy her with massive amounts of fur.

That is all.

She obviously feels bad.

This morning I got my can of Stinky Goodness early; she rolled out of bed at an acceptable hour, and didn't make me wait. She came right downstairs without using the Giant Litterbox and fed me.

And later, before she and the Man went to sit outside, she gave me some crunchy treats.

Oh yeah, she feels bad.
And that's fine with me.

They did not feed me this morning!

I’m not kidding—they left the house without giving me my half a can of Stinky Goodness. The Woman says she thought the Man had fed me, and evidently he thought she had… Don’t these People know how to coordinate? Are they stupid???

I damn near starved today!

Even after they came home and I started hollering at them, what did they do? They went outside and sat in those stupid chairs, waving at me through the window, saying stupid things like “Hi, Max,” and “You’re fine, Max.”

I was not fine!
I was dying!

At 5 o’clock the Woman finally said she’d feed me, and was freaking surprised when there was no half a can left to give to me. Well Jesus Christ on a Pogo Stick, what was she expecting? I can’t open the &^%^%$ cans by myself.

I thought I had them trained.
They are so unworthy of living with me.
Really.

Look...if I think that what you're having for dinner smells intriguing, chances are I'm going to jump up onto the table and see for myself. Getting your shorts in a wad is not going to change that. Pointing your finger at me and making threats doesn't faze me. You might as well get over it already. It's going to happen again, I assure you.

Shrimpy Goodness!!!
Yes!

I haven’t had the chance to catch one of those incredibly ugly birds that have made the front yard their home, but I still intend to. I keep looking out at them, and they’re all pretty big, which theoretically means a hell of a lot of meat on their bones. It’s possible they’re not inedible after all. I want to find out.

And the People wised up; they no longer return smelling of dog, though the Woman came in yesterday (after being out there in a chair on the front lawn all freaking day, leaving me here all alone) smelling kind of funky. I think it was the smell of Sticky Little People. If she brings one of those home, not only will I poop on her pillow, but I might have to hack up a hairball or two, carefully placed deep enough in their shoes where they won’t see it right off the bat.