Wimsey's Place

whare i talk about what itz like too liv with mi humin and the kranki kat.


Teh Box

Mi humin haz gone crazi. Shi haz mi lockt in a box every afternoon now. i dont like it veri much. Its dark, and teh krazy kat laffs at mi when i'm inside...

The only good thing--if you kan call it that--is that the box seems too grow treets -- alot ov treets. (The treets arent az good az cheeze, but thay are stil good, so i eat them.)

Shi tries to be all happi when shi puts mi in the box, like itz a good thing, but i'm NOT happi abot it--and shi knos it. Shi sez it's for mi own good (and the good of her carpits, or somethin like that), but i'm not convinct. Shi even told mi afternooon humin, Suzane, to put mi in the box.

Mi humi doesn't kno it yet, but i hid a screwdrivr in the box and i plan to take it apart while shi's at work. Soon.


The Kat and the New Humin

i dont understand. There iz a new humin in the house and shee seems too like the crazy kat more than mi. Shee doeznt feed mi and sayz everythin she's eeting is "dog poisin." i dont beelieve it.

Shhe trys too play with the kat, and shee doezn't get it that the kat is dangerous, reely dangerous. You think the kat iz being nice, but she iz NOT. Beware new little humin, beware.