Mojo’s mad at me and I don’t know why. His food bowl is full and his crapper is empty. But there he sits (the little skallywag) six feet in front of my chair with his back to me. Now and then he turns his head to the side, presumably checking to see if I’ve noticed him and am getting the lesson.He’s probably mad because I kicked him off the bed last night. Three times. I didn’t kick hard. I kept my feet under the cover, where his teeth couldn’t go, and sort of nudged him vertically.
I wouldn’t mind having a foot warmer on my bed, but you just never know when he’ll turn into a wildcat, with all those sharp body parts.
Yesterday he was mad at George. You can tell who the offender is by the position of his back.
Mojo is training us to respect, fear, and serve him. It would help if we could understand cat language. Or maybe not. Cats undoubtedly have swearwords no human has ever heard.
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