Making Flippy Floppy

Sometimes my humans deserve my wrath.

Last night, I was ever so content, lying on the lap of the British One. The humans were lounging on the sofa, watching television, and I was napping gloriously.

So gloriously, in fact, that I might have been snoring. The humans laughed at me for being "floppy." I was NOT "floppy!" I was content! I was happy! And most of all, I was asleep!

Oh but the humans were dead set on jostling, fidgeting and rousing me from my wonderful slumber. Finally, after the upteenth time I had been jarred from my satisfied slumber, I retaliated.

I growled at them. I really put on the deep, gutteral growl too. Surprised, the British One told me that it was time for our beddie-bye basket. Well I was already in my beddie-bye basket--his lap was perfectly warm, soft and cozy. I didn't want to move.

He raised me up from that nice lap and so I growled again. Softie stood up and lifted me from the sofa and carried me over to the stairs, where I decided then and there to be an incredible grump and not let her have her way. I struggled and growled until she set me down on the landing. Then she had the nerve to say "Fine, if you don't want to go to beddie-bye basket with us you don't have to." I snorted a big, loud snort to let her know that I didn't care about the beddie-bye basket, and I stomped off as hard as I could back down the stairs.

Unfortunately, by the time I made it back down the steps the British One had stood up and was switching off the lights, which meant there was no more lap for me to doze on. How rude!

I stalked over to the Poang and climbed on my blankie, snorted again for good measure, and waited until well into the night when they were sound asleep before I crept up the stairs and into the beddie-bye basket with them.