It isn’t that I don’t want to vacuum. I mean, I don’t mind vacuuming at all. I used to do it plenty, and it wasn’t an issue. Over the last couple of years though, my wrists have become more and more of a problem, so it’s one of those things where Master doesn’t let me vacuum because it is cheaper. Our current vacuum is big and heavy, and nine times out of ten if I try, I put a bone in my wrist out and we have to pay to have it put back in. Not too productive, now is it? So, Master and me usually use vacuum time as a bit of a chance for some pet play.
“I’m going to vacuum so..”
“MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW!”
Kitties don’t like the sound the vacuum makes, you see. Serenade usually runs like mad from the vacuum, so I figure that’s the right thing to do, and so I normally do.
And, Master will catch me and inevitably, tether me to the chair in the front room.
This time though, he gave me just about all the plushies in the house and tucked me in first. I guess that tucking me in ensures I can’t escape. Not that I ever really want to escape. I just like getting out of the way of the noisy “carpet monster.”
So, Master did all the vacuuming and then he came over to take pictures.
“God, you look so cute sitting there playing games with your plushies,” he tells me.
Thank you, Master. And, thank you for vacuuming to save my wrists.