Well, my human FINALLY came home from New Orleans. Granma's spa location is suitable, but she keeps me up too late. I've had to nap all day to recover.
Oh, I occassionally get up and knock some kibble around. I mean, let's be serious. If mom didn't have something to do, she'd get bored, right? And bored humans are bad humans, we all know that.
HOWEVER, I am extremely displeased with her unwillingness to give me canned food multiple times a day, like granma did. I cry and cry and cry and she just giggles and makes fun of my voice. HRMPH. I cannot help it I have a petite, demure, outstandingly feminine voice. It is not polite to make fun of it.
So PPPPPHHHHHHHTTTTTT. Take that. And bring me some kibble. I'm hungry.