Tanada is currently sleeping on the top of my monitor, after shedding
fur everywhere and glaring at me in disbelief.  I did it again.  I made
the world end.  She may not forgive me for a while, this time.

As you all know, we are to blame for anything that happens in the feline
world that they dislike.  Like most cats, Tanada hates having her world
end, and six or more inches of snow qualifies as world ending.

We got one of those strange south/south east storms here, and had snow
dumping on the ground in big wet heavy flakes (almost clumps) when Mandy
got up for school at seven this morning.  She came bouncing into our
room to wake us and make sure we knew if school would be canceled.  It
was.  However, so was Rob's intake appointment at Pope AFB where our
medical will now be done.  Rob only tried for three months to get that
appointment.  He hasn't begun the battle for mine, yet.  Neither of us
is looking forward to it, or to Mandy's which also has to be done.

Back to the cats.  Most of them took the world ending philosophically,
Penelope even went out in it and visited the enclosure for a while. But
Tanada is not a philosophical type of cat.  She glared at me from the
top of the printer for a while.

When that didn't have the desired effect, she climbed on top of Rob's
high boy and knocked his Arabic Royal symbol (given to him by one of
Saudi's minor royalty, don't ask, the story is a long one) onto the
floor.  Rob jolted up out of a sound sleep and asked me what I did this
time.  I told him that I made the world end.  I pointed out that the
symbol (a brass palm tree with crossed swords and gold tassels) hitting
the floor was deliberate.  This was greeted with a grunt and a muttered
"of course it was an accident.  Tanada wouldn't knock anything off the
high boy on purpose."  I couldn't help it.  I giggled.

We all know what happens when the hoomins laugh.  Yup.  Tanada took it
personally.  She retreated to the top of my monitor where she glared
pensively out at the world falling down.  Every so often, a large clump
of snow would fall off the enclosure or one of the plants, and she would
watch it come down, head following the movement, then glare at it like
it was going to come back up and slap her in the face.  Then she would
glare at me for almost a minute.  Hey, I even open the blinds for her so
that she could see out without destroying them.  What more does she want?

She has made it clear to me that she will not forgive me until her
demands are met.  I am to make the world stop ending, bring her a can of
tuna of her own, stop laughing at her, not let any other cats sleep on
her bed, and last but not least, not let Honor in the house ever again.
 Needless to say, her demands aren't going to be met.  I guess I'm in
the litter box again.

Pam S.