whispers regicideshipping?
Vector please, you are in public.

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whispers regicideshipping?
Vector please, you are in public.
"Don't worry. The kitties will be just fine the second I get home."
Oh yes. Because after one of your cats has vindictively crapped all over the apartment, that is exactly what I am worried about. His well being.
I have given up on trying to tell Angus "no" when he hops onto the table.
Now I just hiss, "It gets the hose again" and spray him with the squirt bottle.
My meal companions as of late have been, without fail, Angus and a squirt bottle.
Yesterday's breakfast: dinosaur egg oatmeal and Angus wanting to sit on the table. Squirt.
Yesterday's lunch: left over ramen noodles and Angus repeatedly putting his front feet on the table, staring at me in defiance and challenge. I raised the squirt bottle every time a paw hit the table cloth, and the first three tries, he'd flatten his ears, squint, and draw back. The fourth time, however, he just hopped right on up. Squirt.
Yesterday's dinner: pretzels and Angus feeling very interested in the drying dishes I had just washed. And the counter. And the table. Squirt.
Today's breakfast: dinosaur egg oatmeal once more and Angus's fluffy ass on the table before I even get the chance to set my bowl, or myself, down. Squirt squirt squirt squirt SQUIRT.
I hate this cat. I really, really do.