Oo-hoo, Tippy got in
big trouble today!
Remember the time when I got a touch carried away while straightening up the litter boxes?
Well...
Today Tippy got busted removing new
litter from the bucket when Mummy’s back was turned.
She went in another room
just for a minute and heard a dastardly scraping noise. Her immediate
assumption, perhaps not unreasonable if a bit rash, was that I was at it again
in the freshly cleaned boxes, so naturally MY name was shouted, followed by such a
tirade I could barely catch. Snippets of: “prison”, “gruel for the rest of my natural lives”, and
“no more noggin rubs” are the phrases that stood out most.
I was taken aback in
no small measure!
My eyes widened at the thought of the gruel and unusual
punishment I might endure for Tippy’s crime, and all the while Mummy could
easily have seen it was Tippy, only for some strange reason, she did not
immediately return to the litter box room. So I shot into the room where she
was (the brightest idea I have had to date) and stood there so Mummy had to see
it wasn’t me – one could still hear the scratch-scritching and the sound of
litter flinging across the room.
Seeing me, and
convinced (finally) that I was not the culprit, Mummy did her duty and peered
‘round the corner to find Tippy digging in deeply and pulling pawsful of the litter
from the bucket, flipping it behind her – she already had a pile of the
stuff and was apparently intent on recreating the Rocky Mountains with it.
That is, until she saw Mummy staring at her.
Tippy glanced to the side, litter drizzling from her upturned paw. A tense and silent moment if ever I
heard one! Tippy gulped, I am sure of it, then legged it for the bedroom, Mummy
hot on her heels. All I can say is that I sure am glad it wasn’t me this time.
I did NOT like the thought of eating gruel (whatever that is) for the rest of
my life.
Some days it pays to
just stay in bed.
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