I. Am. So. Bored.
I intend no offense to other apartment-dwelling felines but there simply isn’t enough to do around here. I miss my patio door and deck where bold and foolish squirrels dared to tread. My basket of toys is Dullsville. I wriggle on my crackly bacon fuzzy every day but it doesn’t soothe my tortured soul. My collection of brushes and my stand-up scratchy thing are same old, same old. There are no stairs to climb. True, I used to complain about the stairs but now I long for a set. Make them long and steep!
Even Father has pronounced rental apartment living, “boring”! Mother’s penchant for improving stuff nearly got the best of her. For instance, Father had to stop her from purchasing a caulk-removing blade and recaulking around the bathtub. As you may be aware, these two are home improvement nutters and they’re finding it difficult to scale back their efforts to nil while they rent here, short-term.
Mother has noted with delight (and perhaps some envy?) that my blog posts receive more “hits” than her own. My missives have also been noticed by those with an even bigger platform. I’m delighted to share that I – your favourite humble fur princess – am going from the small screen to the voice device. Yes, I’ve been asked to bring an abbreviated version of my diary to Amazon Echos and Google Homes across this great continent. If you have one of these amazing little doodads, ask it to add Miss Sugar’s Diary to your flash briefings. (Please let me know whether you are able to hear it! You can enable the Miss Sugar’s Diary skill by following the link posted by Brielle in the comments below.)
Mother reads my diary because apparently no one can bother to teach me English, but I have a voice! And I am willing to learn! Mother’s jealousy is transparent, not to mention, rather sad. However, I’ve always known that a star quality lay dormant within me. I choose not to dance or act (except when I’m asked whether it was me who peed on the floor) but I can talk and sing. And sing I will! “What’s new pussycat? Meow, meow, meoooow!”
When I’m rich and famous, I promise my secretary will always take your calls, my pumpkin.
Your fur-ever friend,