Tuesday, April 13, 2010

No, not my tongue

No, he didn't get my tongue. Trust me, I had my fair share of words for the cat yesterday morning. He didn't follow in line with the adage--he went ahead and the cat got my diamond ring instead.

Dang cat.

Trying not to wake my Crazy, I searched through my jewelery tray of MUCH cheaper pieces that he could have DESTROYED for all I cared, but no diamond ring. A search of the surrounding area, even with the light on, revealed nothing either. The only things that coerced me to leave were the fact that it was my second first-day of work and Crazy told me he'd take a look for it for me when he got up.

*sigh*

I felt naked on one hand all day (ring-wearers, I know you know what I mean). It wasn't until I'd told EVERYONE what the cat had done and after I'd visited my cat-enthusiast doctor that I started to feel a little better.

While going through the motions of my check-up, I told her about what Moo had done and asked her for her professional opinion on my chances of finding it again.

    "Oh, well he certainly hasn't eaten it. He's just a cat and cats like loud, shiny things to bat around on the floor for the sparkle and the sound it makes. I'm sure you're going to find it behind one piece of furniture or another."

Lucky for the cat, I did.

I am now in the market for a cat-proof jewelery box. Perhaps from Mexico. 9 more days...

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