Adapting

Pssst.

Over here, behind the towel.

Yea, that's right. I'm a cat. If you have a problem with that then move on to some other blog today, because I've got a couple of things to say.

Greetings, friends of GooberStan. I'm coming to you from what was once my sanctuary... my own personal meditation room. I don't have much time because any minute a couple of furballs, who shall remain nameless, are going to shove their way in here too. Hey. I'm not llooking for pity, just some understanding.

Don't get me wrong, man. I LOVE these goobers, but it's been a big adjustment for me to learn the ways of the goobs and to adapt my way of life to their presence. Long ago, before our girl brought home a big hairy dog for me (otherwise known as Stanley), I'd catch some one-on-one time with the girl whenever she was in this room. I would sometimes perch on the side of the bathtub, between the 2 shower curtains, and do some acrobatic moves, then recharge my zen to the sound of the falling water.

Now, look who ELSE has claimed this place as a sanctuary. (Bet you can't guess who caused that nasty ring around the tub either.)

The wee goobette is just as bad. She thinks she OWNS that tub.

So, I've decided to make the most out of a bad situation. Here's the small furball practicing some moves I showed her on the balance beam.

And now, whenever we hear that falling water, we all come running and have ourselves a family meeting. (Notice my close up at the end please.)

Learning to live with goobers,

Merv