I think I'll skip over 2008 to 2010... not a lot happened then. I spent most of that time training my humans to my ways. Willful bunch of no-hopers they are... Willful and disrespectful.
The old cat, Mo, got bited by a stray dog and went to heaven. They were all sad. I guess me too a little bit. He was big and old and dumb, but he didn't hurt Daisy. I hope stray dog choked on a fur ball.
In September 2010 I had a life-changing event. It was horrible. The humans called it an Earthquake! They said it was 7.1 but I don't care about all that.... My life was turned upside down let me tell you.
Firstly, furniture fell over nearly squashing poor me... little, sweet Daisy! All the food fell out of the cupboards, which might have been a good thing, but so did all the plates and glasses and other things the humans use. So the food was shovelled up and binned.
Lots of neighbours arrived in the middle of the night and the oaf man had a big scary motor thing outside running the lights and oven and stuff for everyone. They all hung around in the living room and kitchen till it got light. Stupid humans. They should have hid under the bed like me, Daisy. They tried to tempt me out by lighting the fire, but I wasn't having any of their trickery. I haven't worked out how they make the earthquake things, but I don't like them and I know where to be safe!
They even made me cross when they laughed at Garfield climbing the stairs. Pat..pat..step, pat..pat...step... He is orange and boy cat. He's not clever and brave like Burmese. Only I, Daisy, should laugh at Garfield.
Then in February 2011 there was ANOTHER big one. I dislikes these 'earthquakes' and insist somebody puts stop to them. AFH said today we have had nearly 10,000 and some are v.e.r.y big! Imagining that big is hard. I'll just say 'too manies'.
I have sorted out the sleeping arrangements here. I STILL haven't got the big oaf out into the kennels. My failure to do so perturbs me and is a constant thorn in my paw. Every night I make my bed on the big bed next to AFH. Then 'he' comes in and I stare and stare at him, but the fool just laughs at me and gets in anyway. Then he picks me, Daisy, up and shoves me under the blanket for ' cuddles'. I want none of these cuddles from him! He just doesn't understand cat glare and boundaries. Like a dog. They don't understand boundaries either. I am beginning to think that I have severely underestimated their capacity for stupid. 'Tis so simple... I, Daisy, stare... you go away. Simple!
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