Salem

Salem is a bright cat. Not necessarily a genius but he sure as hell is shrewd and knows how to whine his way out of a fix. Since he was a tottling kitten, we had trained him to be house friendly - which translates to : no chewing of shoes, no scratching of any items besides his scratching post, no consumption of any forms of human food whatsoever (due to his urinal tract disease condition), no sleeping on our bed (unless the unfortunate occasions he gets shut in unintentionally). And NO sleeping on the lounge. To which he very conveniently chooses to ignore despite the many “refresher course” we put him through.











So. As usual. I caught the little bugger relaxing away on our cream white lounge yesterday night. Upon being sprung, he immediately deplored his escape contingency plan of faint whining and fetus curling. Followed by a soft paw reflecting of my punishing smack. I have seen this act way too many times. But it is always Oh. So. Darn. Cute. I had to let out a giggle. Which is his sign of “yeah yeah.. you’re off the hook.”

He calmly stood up, gave himself a really good arched stretch, bounced off the lounge and curled up on the floor.

I of course gave him a good night cuddle. Muffled a weak “bad cat”. And left him to his own devise for the night.

I so have myself to blame.