**The following Moochie quote must be read in your best Steve Martin fake Frenchman accent. The management thanks you for your kind consideration.**
Meeeeeeeeeeeow. Certainment, Madame, I shall seek out this, how do you call it, orange infidel, for I am (insert fanfare) Inspector Moochie Clawseau!
I do not wish this great nation of GarrenLand to be overrun by such orange fur much as this. Please allow me, Madame, to assure you that the black and orange fur medley, that is moi, shall remain in complete control of the situation.
** Momo's reply should, of course, be read in a humbled whisper with a slight touch of indignation.**
Aw, geez, Mom, I didn't drag this piece of toilet paper under the bed, I swear I didn't so much as blink at that old Mooch, and I'm thinking this helicopter might be useful for launching some rockets at Moo...uh, I mean, at intruders! Yeah, that's it, intruders, gotta launch some rockets.
So much for concentrating on a serious, businesslike post for today. *sigh*
As soon as I sat down at the computer, I heard the galump-galumpity-galump of a housecat doing an impersonation of a leopard across the kitchen's linoleum floor. Either that, or the Pony Express is back in business and has a route right through my kitchen. Exactly how is it that such a lightweight teenage ball of fur can make that much noise running across a floor?
It wasn't long before I realized the purpose behind the galumping. The Mooch had casually strolled through the door and proceeded to the kids' bedroom while I was carrying in groceries (hot dog buns for the hot dogs for the hot dog lovers in the family, portabella mushrooms for sauteing for the non-hot dog lover in the family-- me). Moochie is not much of a housecat, but she felt the need to beat Momo to the door today. Momo, however, considers her adolescent self Queen of GarrenLand, She Who Shall Not Be Removed from the Glass Desk nor from the Back of the Couch (she who's got another think coming!). Momo was on a mission to track down this aging feline interloper. . .and the galumpity-galumping began!
They galumped through the kitchen, back to the breezeway, through the kitchen again, around the living room, over the couch (well, at least one of them got caught in that act), and down the long hallway to the bunkbeds. Naturally, I had to go see what was happening. I had to bring the camera, and I had to shut the bedroom door so neither of the cat culprits could escape before I took some snapshots of the fiasco. I do apologize for the lack of action in the shots, but the animals were constantly moving and certainly didn't offer to pose for me. Little boogers. Guess I better get to work now. Talk to ya soon!