Monday, March 2, 2009

Well, EXC-MEW-SE me!


How was I supposed to know that the little plastic bag sitting by the front door was not a feed bag containing delicious treats and instead contained partial contents of my litter box that a certain someone deems discardable? Please. Like she hasn't reached into the garbage, a la George Costanza from "Seinfeld", for a half-eaten something or other? Hrmph.


  1. Well, George Costanza's took the eclair "right from the top" of the trash (and, he knew who took a bite from it, so that made it okay).

    Just how far down did you dig into that 'litter' bag, Shana?? And, I hope you didn't...taste anything. EWWWWWWW! Poop breath!!!

  2. I can assure mew that this PERSON I live with did not allow me sufficient time for even the tiniest portion of my dash mouth to touch down on any of the morsels I thought were contained within that small and very inviting white plastic bag. I assure mew, Mr. Black, that this "poop" you speak of does not interest me in the least. I save my snacking for finer fare, such as cockroaches.