Playing Hard to Get. Until Dinner Time.

We are such bad parents. And Ferris has no problem telling us that. Not only did we leave him for FOUR DAYS (with water and food and access to catnip), but it was during the 4th OF JULY. Big booms and bangs and scary loud noises and lights. Don't worry, he had a sitter. But, he had no problem telling us he was pissed off.

Thankfully he didn't pee on something, like the bed (or the dog several years ago when we brought him home. Yes, he peed ON the dog), or yack on our faces in our sleep when we got home, instead he ignored us. He didn't want to be picked up, held or be played with in any matter.

Until it was time for bed the day we got back. He cried to be held, cuddled, petted and loved. And then, he talked all damn night.

I don't know about y'alls cats, but ours talks to us. Yes, as in chats. I'll be holding him, petting him, kissing on him, or trying to snooze off and he'll be chittering, meowing, chuffing, purring until he's ready to go to sleep. He's done this for the last two nights, catching us up, I'm sure, on all his shenanigans over the last few days. Like why his food is in tiny kibble bits all over the kitchen floor, or how so much food gets in his water, or how he shed two inches of fur all over the bed.

It's okay. We know he missed us, and during our time in Crescent City, we missed him to pieces too.