Milo raced to the shower first thing and refused to come out to eat. I even took food to him IN the shower and he just looked at me like I had 2 heads. He sat very calmly at the edge of the stall with his front feet curled up under himself so he looked like the Sphinx in Egypt. No way was he eating until I took a shower and he got to fight the water. Sometimes I am tempted (or even do) to take 2 showers a day because he seems to enjoy the game of it so much.
He is also disgusted that Grayson is coming out of hiding more often and EVEN has the AUDACITY to try and sleep on my bed (which Milo thinks is just his and mine - no Grayson allowed). Gray has fallen in love with the blanket Julie gave me for Christmas. Trouble is, it is my favorite as well so I am trying to get him to understand he can have another blanket, just not that one. I am having to move him off it every night which makes me feel bad. Gray asks for very little (except a 3 a.m. feeding every now and then) and I don't like to deny him what little he does ask for. I will likely try and find myself another blanket to love and give in to him before it is over. But for now, I am trying to maintain that I get to own something in the house.
Milo jumped up on my lap the other night as he does often, but this time he missed the mark by a hair and his hind feet (with claws) skidded down the side of my right thigh. HURT, I do say. I put peroxide on the wound for the first day or two and now I am putting Neosporin and bandages on the scratch every day as I can't stand for it to rub against my clothes. It is feeling a lot better now but cat scratches hurt exceedingly bad. Poor baby, he didn't know what he had done and he certainly didn't mean to do it, but now I am a little wary of him when he jumps on me. I am watching out for those hind feet with their claws, for sure.
Thursday, I knew I wanted to print something that was 28 pages so I closed the door to the "pc room" and told Bertha we needed to let something print before letting Milo in there. I went to pick up the document and there sat Milo staring into the guts of the printer fully ready to attack. I told Bertha I had locked the fox in the hen house and was probably lucky the little scamp still had his feet as he tries to stick them into the printer so he can stop all the lights, movement, and sound (I reckon).
All children should be so loved as these two cat-boys.
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