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Well, once again, i'm puzzled by my humans.
I mean, no more than a week ago, they were concerned that maybe my tummy was a bit too large. (maybe). And they've started to use the string more than usual, to get me moving.
I thought that was all good.
So good indeed, that my exercise sessions are the new best thing on earth ever.
I can't get enough.
And here they are, all concerned that i don't run to my food when they're back at night, or that i don't seem to care for catnip in the morning, or that i don't even want to jump on the sofa at any time (even when daddy's busy with his laptop - that's usually my clue to go and climb all over him).
No, all i do is standing by my bedroom door and meow for more play.
And more.
And more again.
I just want to chase the string.
What's the problem with that, i thought i was being a dutiful good cat !
Seriously, those humans, they're so queer !
(and i've seen mummy shuffling some old toys to grab that silly
panic mouse she bought last Chritmas - well, i say, i do not care for exercise without a personal trainer, and will REFUSE to play with the panic mouse. Just like i did for months last winter. Who's ever heard of a cat without a personal trainer ?!)
.