Boxing Day is Coming!

Hello, Everybody!!! It is me, JohnJohn, lover of boxes big and small. You may be asking yourself, "Boxing Day is coming? Wasn't it last month??" No, my friends. It is coming. It is soon. Unscheduled, but soon. (Stay tuned.)

What would make boxes appear? Moving, of course! Moms and Dads are going to buy our first home. Gone with the renting, gone with the moving again and again. Finally, we will have a scratching pad of our own. You might say, "JDamn, why are you leaving Fairfield? It is fair and it has a field!" To that I reply with this:

1. The squirrel population proves to be sparse. To date, we have one. While Chipper is near and dear to our hearts, I would like to expand my roster of furry, furry outside friends. Archy also has a stellar idea - he's going to create WOB (Work Out Basement) for the outside folks. We're currently kicking around the names WOY (Work Out Yard) and KIC (Kritters in Chubb).

2. There's not much space here. There's hardly any space for our kibble dishes, wet food dishes and water dishes. I would also like a bathroom and a bathtub of my own. Scooping water in my own tub would be *great.*

3. I'd really like some furniture of my own. Seen the most recent issue of Cat Fancy? I want the Cats' House. Here's a picture. I've printed it out for Moms and Dads to take with them when they meet with their real estate agent.

It's pretty cool, right? I'd change the color scheme and get rid of the cat rug. And Dads and I have already discussed the need for a large, flat-screen teevee with the 24-hour bird channel. Then it would be *perfection.*

We're going to have to move by mid-May, because that is when our lease is over. I cannot wait for all of the boxes to come out. It overwhelms me, though -- so many corners to scratch my cheeks on and so little awake time...

In other news, Archy and I were napping the other day in Moms and Dads bed. I was all snuggled in the comforter, and so was Archy and we were apparently close. *Real close.* Dads stopped in to say, "Awwww" at us and I woke up. I saw Archy, right next to me, his paw outstretched. He looked so nice and squishy, but his paw was a little smelly so I decided to lick it and, you know, make him sniff better. So, I licked his paw pad with my little sandpaper tongue. Apparently, it was unappreciated and unwanted. The next thing I know, Archy is awake, Archy is upright, and Archy is giving me the Bruce Lee mofo paw: his paw (with a nice smelling paw pad) is fiercely poised in the air, claws semi-retracted, ready to strike if I say something sassy like, "I dare you." Well, of course I say, "I dare you" and I got womped on the head. Then I womped him back and some fur flew and Archy left the room. Naptime soundly being over, I then went to the kibble bar and had a snack. Wasn't that a nice story? It was true. Archy said that's called non-fiction. I told him I don't like negative things.

Purrs and kisses,

JDamn-OUT!

P.S. My left eyebrow is missing again. Don't know where it went. We don't know why only the left one keeps falling out. If you see it, there is a reward for its return. One kibble bit. Yes. It's worth that much to me. Also, if you know of any faux eyebrow stores for cats, lemme know...