Apparently there is no more turkey.
Why does this glorious event only happen once a year?
In other news, the humans are being cagey. They keep referring to "the new house" and Softie has been trying to polish a bunch of old, ornate doorknobs in the evenings. This does not leave her lap free for me to lay on, which is upsetting. I sulked all last night and didn't sleep with them.
This morning the British One actually laughed when he found me hiding under the desk in Softie's chair. I don't like being laughed at.
I might have to take a crap in someone's shoes.