The following advice comes straight from the perch:
If you see a big lump in the bed, hidden under layers of bedding, it's not necessarily your nightshirt and stocking cap stuck under there. It could be Sir Lou Reese (form of White Fang) (shape of Arfur) preparing to attack. That is, of course, if he has enough brain cells left to get the job done.
Ok, so maybe I was a torturer in a past life and that's why I have such bad karma, but did I really deserve a cat in this life with almost as many psychological problems as I have myself? Is that fair, Ganesh? Shouldn't a house guest be able to rest her weary head without The Wrath of the Badderson Line descending upon her? I ask you.
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