Return from Gran'mas

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.