As of last night, I'm officially a high school graduate! And aside from my new macbook pro being ordered, my own star in the universe (yes, really), a beautiful necklace, and other fantastic gifts from various important people in my life, I got one more gift today: my cat finally came home. I had some family in town for the big day and my godmother is deathly allergic to cats, so Fibby simply could not stay at the house with me. Since my sister owed me for watching her evil cats, it only made sense if I just left Fibby there once she got back in town and passed her the burden of caring for all three of them as I did. It was the first time I have ever spent a night without Fibby. I have ditched out on parties early just to go home and hang out with Fibby, 'cause I am that much of a loser (but in my eyes, I just love her that much). The point is, for the past three days I felt like I had no soul and my sister only made it worse by declaring how much fun Fibby was having with her and that her and the other cats are getting along now so she'd never want to leave. Now that Fibby is back, though, I know my sister was full of lies because she was thrilled to see me and her new kitty kube that I got to bribe her into loving me again after leaving her... That last part is unimportant.
Aw yeah, son!
Even though she adores the kitty kube, it is apparently not her favorite hang-out at my house, catnip or no catnip. I don't know when or if I would have ever found this out if my feet hadn't gotten cold. I went into my room to get some socks and when I pulled out the drawer, I saw pretty much the last thing I was expecting. Whaddaya' know, Fibby had gotten perfectly cozy with my socks and bras... and managed to "knock my socks off" (though I wasn't wearing any yet) while she was at it. She is so good at scaring me that she scares me when she's not even attempting to scare me and ends up scaring herself too because I'm sure she wasn't expecting me to find her in her cat-version of a military bunker, completely unguarded, while she was sleeping.
The jig is up.
She used to hang out underneath my dresser as a wee little baby, so I am assuming that she wandered under there today and with her older, slightly more intelligent brain realized that she could climb up my drawers and slide into the one to her liking.. depending on her mood, of course. Thursday, it's socks and bras; Friday, it could be pajamas and t-shirts. I don't know; I'm not a cat whisperer. I can only assume that Holly's cats are to blame for Fibby's newly surfaced stealth ninja skills, considering the fact that they too, are stealth ninjas, if you recall from my last blog post their secret spot in the trundle bed: Fibby finds feline friendship?. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of cats in the sense that they can fit in these places. I wish I could snuggle with giant fuzzy socks that were proportionaly to my theoretical, fibby-sized body and in a dark place where no-one would ever think to find me. One can dream and in the meantime, I'll just search through all of my drawers until I find my toasty cat fresh out of the dresser-oven and cuddle with her.