It's mad, I tell you, mad!

Had you thought der Dekan and I disappeared off the planet? No, but we were really busy. We had to eat, we had to nap a lot, play sometimes, fight every, now and then - and most important of all we found a hobby that we can both agree on. It's cheap, it's fun, it's easy and you can do it all around the clock.
I'm of course talking about driving Mom to ultimate madness. It's not that we don't like her, she's quite useful as a can opener, she does our boxes, she makes quite a good bed for lounging (especially if she falls asleep and doesn't move), she reads to us which can be pretty relaxing, she pets us, and she catches our beauty in pictures (den Dekan more than me because my pictures tend to be blurry if the light isn't right and she hates how flash makes my gorgeous fur look all wrong while it really brings out his stripes nicely) and, even more important, knows which pictures of me to delete (who cares if she shows the goofiest, least flattering pictures of the brat, mugshots are rarely good).

First of all, I'm really pushing my art career at the moment.
Let Mom call me a vandal, I don't care. Here's just a small reminder of my inspiration, I never pose like that with my artwork to keep a bit of the Banksy touch.
Der Dekan has pretty much given up on this kind of art installation, by the way. Obviously he had to acknowledge that I'm so much better than he is. He's more into

I am taking this further than der Dekan, though, in frequency for example which is of course a comment on the many Sisyphos tasks humans are dealing with throughout their lives, such as laundry, vacuuming, cleaning, grocery shopping, etc.
To be clear, they are doing some of them happily because they know we allow them do those for our wellbeing - choosing the best food (which we will like and then refuse and then like again), creating a safe but inspiring environment for us to develop our many amazing talents, but also litterboxes for example (although sometimes I wonder if that is more of a weird obsession and I'm thinking about writing my thesis about that).
For Mom, one is obviously kicking back the baseboards with her foot while mumbling to herself, no doubt about the flawless execution of not ripping out just the short, but also the long board. Extra touches are to pull them out far enough to either knock over one or several of the door stoppers or leave them slanted which looks very good if I may say so myself.
I'm quite grateful she took over that duty because if she didn't put them back, I couldn't rip them out again, right? About a minimum of three times a day, with the record probably at about six or seven.
You can tell I'm working very hard on this.

Another way to make Mom panic is to eat something you shouldn't it. Like bats.
If you have been around for a while, you may remember my complicated relationship with bats. No, I didn't follow Ozzy Osbourne's example, I'm talking about felt bats (or actually any other felt pieces).
Mom never fails to show me this picture of my former BFF and she keeps pointing out that two days are not "forever". So petty.

Well, she gave me "another chance at proving I'm a responsible and mature cat".
I won't be saying any more without my lawyer except that I had fun hearing Mom yell for me to stop licking the new bat to death. She says she doesn't want me to swallow the felt that gets stuck on my tongue. Pfff.

By the way, no need to worry about the missing hair on the back of my legs,
it comes and goes.

Unfortunately, Mom has taken measures to fight back in the most cruel and humiliating way. All I'm saying is "vet".
But that, my dear readers, is a story for another time ...

Taking back the throne

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the last post. What a sneaky little punk!
He was right about my spending a night away from home, though. Mom is so lucky that I never hold a grudge for long because not only did I have to stay at the vet's all by myself, but it was for nothing! Can you believe it??
My vet had heard some heart murmur when I was so excited and so they shaved my chest - now that my belly is finally starting to grow back in - and gave me an ultrasound and Mom was too wimpy to even come and hold my paw. Her excuse was that she thought he would upset me even more.

Good news, though. There's no medication needed yet - take that, you liquid snack hungry little brat - and the vet found a lot of wonderful words for my blood work.
When Mom picked me up and finally took me back home again, I spent a few hours on the Stairs to Nowhere just to show her and dem Dekan how hurt I was. Later Mom told me that he had been very confused and sensitive about me being gone. Who would have thought ....

Anyway, I needed to make clear that I'm still the boss here, so I changed my routine around a bit - slept on the pillow behind Mom's head, kept ripping the kitchen baseboard out every time I came by the kitchen (always worth a little detour), slept on Mom for hours and ignored her pleas to let her breathe.
Most important, though, I took back my throne on the wardrobe to set a sign.

Don't mess with Lady Gundel!

Unfortunately that means we have to do the same stupid thing again next week because the vet is now sure they can do the anesthesia for my dental appointment without a problem.
If you have any tips for a good revenge, let me know!

Interview with a Christmas tree

Gundel: Mr. Christmas Tree, thank you for being here today and sharing your story.

Mr. Tree: To be honest, I would have preferred to talk to someone who has not been part of my traumatic experience over the last few weeks.

Gundel: I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I would, however, like to apologize on behalf of my little brother. He had a hard kittenhood and is still struggling at times.

Mr. Tree: HE is struggling? With what other than his weight? Have you ever been tackled by that little brute? Oh wait, you have, haven't you? And this hard kittenhood lasted all of what, six weeks? After which he started to be spoilt more than all of the royal corgis together.

Gundel: What happens between my little brother and me, is none of your business. How our Mom chooses to spoil us or not, is none of your business. Also you should be very careful about throwing insults around. Can we please get back to the topic now?

Mr. Tree: I'll be very happy to and hope both you and your "little brother" - neither little nor your actual brother if I may say so - will be taking responsibility for the vicious attacks not only on my life.
Look at me, I have been reduced to a mere light holder, unloved, deprived of my ornaments and the company of my dear friends, my branches drooping from the attacks which still haven't stopped completely.

Gundel: By usual standards, you would already have been taken down and confined to your box again. Aren't you glad about being able to shine your lights a little longer? Mom says you make her very happy.

Mr. Tree: Oh, I make her happy, do I? How about asking her how much she's interested in making me happy? I got feelings too, you know.
Are you aware that four of my gnome friends are currently missing and there hasn't even been sent out a search party yet, no doubt because the human knows only too well who abducted them and left them in some corner, but doesn't want to admit it.
Would you at least put up this poster?
I can't be sure it's exactly these four who are missing because the others have been locked away in a cabinet before I could take statements, but the family resemblance should help.

Gundel: Alright, alright. I'll put it up and maybe I'll have a little stroll and look for them myself.
Thank you for the interview, Mr. Tree.

Mr. Tree: Wait, I'm not finished ye.... hey, don't you dare ignore me ... hellooooo?

Gundel: Oh Mooooom! Didn't you say you finally wanted to pack up the tree? I would help, but I gotta find them wee gnomes ....

Merry Christmas!

Not that we noticed that much of Christmas.
As you know we've had the tree around for a while, so the only difference would have been gifts. Do you hear me, Mom?? GIFTS!
The lady honestly thinks double the "squishies" (that's what she calls the liquid snacks she hides my pill in) make a good Christmas gift. We got even more from the neighbors, a load of stinky soft toys!
On the other hand, they might have been a late apology to me because after all it was them who let den Dekan loose in my place and my life.

Mom on the other hand gives the dog in her virtual advent calendar more snacks than us. You don't believe me? Look here, on the left hand side.
She has been in there more than once a day because she's addicted to one of the games - neglecting us shamelessly of course, don't believe her when she says she only plays when we're asleep - and if it were possible, this dog would be as round as that Santa Christmas bauble in the front now!

Anyhow, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday time, no matter what you are celebrating or not, der Dekan and I send you our very best wishes!

Cats versus Christmas tree - Day 8

Both der Dekan and I are very busy, so I'm just giving you a short update of what has been happening to our Christmas tree.
It's safe to say we both are still having a lot of fun with it.
Mom had neglected her duties of hanging ornaments back yesterday, so she had to dig in corners today. It's her own fault, we told her she should check the tree at least every three to four hours.
We are very good at the hiding game, she should know that by now. Not only did she find pineapple slices strewn about and gnomes sitting here and there, she also found the body of Moose the Fiddler which had not been in that corner the day before! She's welcome, we like to give her the feeling of success every, now and then.
Now she just needs to remember in which of her many safe spots she put his head last year.

She also found something weird looking next to the tree's box. On closer examination, she realized that they were a gnome's arms. She hadn't been aware that the arms were glued on like that - in a very minimalistic way, to put it nicely.
"Armless" still held on in the tree, though, and soon he and his arms were reunited again. Surgery was short and quite simple and as Mom is a genius with glue *wiping tears of laughter from my eyes* Mr. Armless has good chances to keep his arms for longer now as she made sure to use more glue in more spots.
I hope she will be able to do the same for Moose, so he'll be able to play the fiddle for us again soon.

I wonder if she will also find his neighbor eventually.
On the branch next to Mr. Armless, there's only a small red thread left.
Who knows, maybe that gnome decided not to fight with huge cats reminding of Iceland's Yule Cat or Jólakötturinn and jumped off the tree?
Oops, that reminded den Dekan how he had planned to become Jólakötturinn after growing up and he sure has done some growing since Mom wrote about the Yule Cat two years ago!


We also had our own fallen angel. It was done rather cleverly by hiding him in the light arch with the neutral back to the front, but Mom didn't miss it. I think she probably knows us a little too well by now.

We are ready for the next round, I wonder if Mom is, too!

P.S. By the way, I know it's the 7th today, but the tree went up on November 30th, so it's Day 8 of our fun and shenanigans.

Tree Swiper HQ

Have you been wondering how the Christmas thing is going in this house? I thought it was time for a little update.

Mom's first surprise was the night the Christmas tree fell. It was 3.15 a.m. and Mom had been sound asleep with the brat in her arm - I think he does that so she will forgive his countless crimes more easily as she adores having a cat in her arms, but we both hate being picked up - when she heard small knocking sounds which she quickly recognized as gnomes hitting the floor. Later she said she smiled to herself knowing I also had fun with her Christmas gifts to us ... until there was a wooshing sound next.
She turned on the light and saw me, rather unimpressed, next to the fallen tree. Seems her little box scheme is not that effective after all or maybe I just got the perfect angle.
Der Dekan went all wide eyed, no doubt jealous that (the first?) hit of the year was mine and not his. Mom grabbed her camera and took a shot into the dark which accounts for the amazingly bad quality of this picture, but I guess it's a good enough proof of my genius.

Of course that doesn't mean der Dekan feels defeated, he's still very much having his own fun with the tree.
Today Mom noticed that its back looked pretty much undecorated and she didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce very quickly why.
The tree's spot is where our cat donut is usually. A while ago, Mom got it in a special sale, hope everlasting that we would actually use it. Which happens rarely. Very rarely. I don't like the tunnel part at all because I know perfectly well who would be waiting for me outside. Not worth the fun. I also don't like sleeping in there. Why should I if I have my very own pillow in bed plus I am allowed to sleep on all soft surfaces I choose? Der Dekan has sat in it a few times, but not for long, and sometimes he checks the tunnel to make sure there's no other cat in there and that's it.

Now, however, the donut is right behind the tree. Another stroke of genius from Mom who simply thought it would not be used any more back there than it had been before. She was so wrong.

Sitting or lying in there, he can easily and comfortably reach the different branches and just pull off what he wants.
That doesn't mean he's not still enjoying his jumps into the tree, but sometimes you just want to put in minimal energy to wreak maximum havoc, and so he made this his Tree Swiper HQ. Mom refuses to put a sign with its name on it after she crawled around on the floor looking for ornaments. It was particularly funny when she was flat on her belly looking under the wardrobe. Without any success, I should mention. We know better than to hide things in obvious places.

She did manage to "save" two of them, though, rudely interrupting this cozy playdate! 🙄

Morning rituals

Der Dekan and I have several rituals, our individual ones, but also a few together.
There's the chase to the cat tower that I use to get up to the cabinet bed in the hallway. Der Dekan chases after me, but never catches me although he could.
There's the way he sneaks up on my kibbles bowl when I take a break from eating. It's amazing that he still seems to think neither Mom nor I will see him if he only moves slowly enough while I'm just watching him instead of defending it. It's not as if he doesn't have his own kibbles, but the grass is always greener on the side and my kibbles are always much more delicious. He wouldn't even mind if I licked each and every one. It's not so much about the eating as it is about the heist itself. He was born a natural criminal.

And there's our morning ritual when Mom finally deigns to get up for real (meaning I don't count the nightly snack sacrifices that we demand in exchange for a little more sleep for her).
I'll be waiting for her on the chest at the end of the bed and then der Dekan will be creeping up from under the bed and attack.
The fight is violent and merciless and we won't stop until one of us is on the floor begging Mom to save them from certain death ....
.... what's that, Mom? Slap fight? Silly little buggers? Can't you see our ears? And the claws? The raw strength and determination? Excuse me, did you just laugh at me? Funny and cute??
It's not more than a half round fight?? You are not sure we ever even touch one another??? How DARE you?!

I know someone who better sleep with her eyes open tonight!!

The apocatlypse is coming?

Hey there, how are you doing?
We have been struggling our way through summer. I think I had jinxed it with my last post about temperatures going down. Temperatures went up again and the only way for me to block out Mom's constant whining was to sleep as much as possible which is one of my favorite pastimes, anyway, so it wasn't hard to do.
Der Dekan left Mom's lap once more, and although she kept saying how she missed snuggles, you could tell she was also very glad that the little brat didn't try to glue himself to her. I remember her telling stories about how her big boys Merlin, Greebo, and Ponder didn't give up snuggling completely in summer and how she was often covered in fur sticking and itching all over her body. I can attest to Greebo in particular having been a master shedder. Not that der Dekan and I are amateurs at that game.

Then it suddenly got quite cold for a few days and then it got warm again and from what the weather forecast is saying - if it can be trusted - that is supposed to happen over the coming days as well. Up, down, up, down, but not quite as hot as it was.
Fall is definitely coming.

However, something is coming according to Mom - the apocatlypse.
When she woke up from a nap yesterday, she felt a little neckwarmer in her back that she wouldn't have needed. She thought it might be me sleeping on my pillow although she should know that I prefer a bit of space between us, but when she turned her head, it was der Dekan.
To explain, that pillow is really mine, but sometimes I like to sleep in the corner of the bed (which looks very pathetic, Mom says, because people could think I was forced to sleep in a tiny spot) or on Mom's blanket and then der Dekan takes over the pillow.
Therefore, Mom looked around if she could see me, but only when she got up, she saw the incredible truth.

You may have seen den Dekan and me on that pillow together before, like when we plotted for world domination together with Bruce, but even then I hissed at him.
This time, however, we were butt touching without any attempt of trying to hit the other, and when I got up and went to my spot on Mom't blanket which usually is a sign for den Dekan to pounce me - some weird archaic instinct, I guess - he just yawned, finally got up himself, walked around me once and then lay down in a different spot. No hissing, no slapping, no growling.
Now Mom is scared and preparing for the apocatlypse by ordering more cat food and snacks.
Well done us!

Happy Valentine's Day!

There are several stories Mom loves to tell about special moments she's had with her cats.
The most important ones are probably in regards to Dude because he was the one who started it all by making Mom fall in love with him at first sight and therefore making it possible for us others to follow in his footsteps.

The first moment lasted about four hours which was the time Mom spent in the chair under the lemon tree holding. Four hours of strategic purring, loving on Mom and drooling on her shirt, convincing her they would have to find a way to get this boy (not so young anymore how they found out later) from California to Germany. Which they did, with the help of their friend in whose house he had been left behind by the previous residents, after her ex couldn't resist him either when it was his turn to meet him a week later.

The second moment came after he had been let out of the bedroom where he had been locked up to make sure he'd be there for his flight to Germany. The whole evening they had tried to get him back inside, not made easier by it being Halloween and the friend's cat being so territorial and chasing him (which was the reason for her not having been able to take him in fully).
The next morning, however, after worrying the whole night, Mom found him sitting on the neighbor's window sill and when she opened her arms, Dude walked right in and clung to her. She often says that the feeling was incredible and that she can still feel it when the memory comes up.

Another moment were 15 minutes of Madam Mim sitting on her lap. Mim loved being in the same room and she tolerated pets and short hugs, but she was not a lapcat. 15 minutes were all she gave Mom in her life, very precious 15 minutes, especially after knowing Mim had had some hard times in her life.

The moment Mom picked up sick baby Merlin from the post from where he was hissing at her in the attempt to convince her of his fierceness.

I could of course keep going with stories from my, let's call them ancestors, but also other cats Mom met in her life, but let's get to me now.
In May 2017, I moved in here. You may remember that I was really skinny and really tired and so glad to get off the streets. I learned to trust Mom, but I always had my boundaries. Petting, fine. Cuddling on the pillow on my terms, fine. Even belly pets are okay with me if I'm in the right mood. I have to draw lines, however. No picking up for cuddling, no carrying around - that means that if it happens now, it usually means vet or - not for a while now *knocking on wood* - medication. No holding down for medication, I'll rip your arm off and I'm not kidding. Ask Mom, she learned the hard way.
And like Mim, I'm not a lap cat. I may stand on Mom with my front paws on very rare occasions, usually if I'm very close to starvation, but I can count those times on one paw.

Today, though, I decided to give Mom a huge gift. She doesn't do Valentine's Day, not just because she's single, it's just not her thing, but now she will always remember this.
She had got cozy, den Dekan on her feet, what else, and ready to make a grocery order.
And then I walked up and sat on her chest.
She actually held her breath. This is not something I have ever done before and she couldn't believe it. She started petting me and I just sat there for a while.
Then I lay down. Guys, I honestly thought she'd lose it completely now.
I gave her our very own special moment - for two hours. She put away the laptop to give me more room and I used it. I purred, I groomed, I rolled around, I stretched out, I rolled up to a ball, I did the whole portfolio, even fell asleep twice, and I swear that Mom teared up a little because it made her so, so happy.
Her favorite game show was running in the background, it often makes her laugh out loud, but she was very careful not to belly laugh, so she wouldn't disturb me, instead she chuckled softly and even then she held me, so I wouldn't be startled by that.
There is no saying how much longer this could have gone on if someone hadn't needed an urgent trip. I could tell how much Mom hated having to coax me off her belly with promises of an extra snack, and now she keeps staring at me, still in disbelief.
I tell you one thing, that lady loves me, and there's nothing der Dekan can do about it. You want to know why I even mention him? Well, see for yourself ;-) He seems to have been wondering about what's going on, too!

Mom took more pictures and even tried to get a little video, but her arms were hardly long enough to manage anything at all as you can tell from the picture not showing my feet. So she's not showing them all, but she tried her best and you get the idea :-D
She told me she'd keep them all, anyway. Humans are so weird.

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you!

The end is nigh?

All I wanted was a little five hour nap. We have construction going on right outside our house. It's loud, and every, now and then the house is vibrating. Mom is not happy. She said maybe it's her tinnitus that makes her extra nervous about those noises. I would have slept just fine through construction, but her being so jumpy made me jumpy, so I had to retreat to the library. It's one of my favorite spots. Fake fur, very comfy and, most important, usually rather quiet because der Dekan likes to stick to Mom like gum to a shoe.

Then I heard Mom in the kitchen and now she really didn't sound happy.
Next thing I know is a furry lightning disappearing under my TV chair.
"Is she coming?"

"Oh Dekan, what did you do now?"
"I threw the peeler off the counter."
"And?"
"And it broke."
"You broke Mom's bunny peeler??"
"It wasn't on purpose. How was I supposed to know it would break?"
"As if you even cared."
"You are right, I don't. For me everything is a toy. Nothing wrong about that, is there?"
"Mom loved that peeler. She got it as an extra with a cat food order and she absolutely loved how it felt in her hand and how well it peeled. That was 13 years ago or maybe even longer. She had hated all peelers before that. You are in trouble, dude."
Could this be the straw that broke the camel's back? Would she finally make good on all her threats and evict the little punk?
"I'm already in trouble and don't know why. Did you see what she bought 'especially for you, my little Dekan'? Low-fat food!!"
"But the good one. Maybe you shouldn't steal my food all the time."
"I'm from a farm. I was a tiny baby and very hungry."
"Not a tiny baby anymore. I came from the streets and was really skinny, but I know how to leave kibbles in the bowl for later. No one's going to take them away. No one except you!"
"I leave some of the new food in the bowl."
"For a while, yes. And then you eat them AND steal my leftovers. Another thing, maybe you should calm down about that kitchen kickboard. You know Mom hates having to get down and up and down and up."
"It's art."

Wanna see art?
One broken peeler (sorry about the bad picture, it was an emotional moment).

And here's the artist posing with his other work (yes, those are door stoppers, no, they don't help, but at least they keep the board from crashing loudly, another thing Mom's tinnitus can't stand ;-))

You can still bet on Mom throwing him out or not, by the way. What do you say?

Plotting for world domination

We shall fight on the beaches ... since der Dekan seems to have the goal to eat until he looks like Churchill, it seems rather appropriate to borrow from his famous speech.
In fact, however, we shall not only fight on the beaches, but on land and water which is the reason for us inviting my friend, the shark, to this little meeting.

We tried to make it look harmless, but something in Mom's eyes told me she didn't trust the peace. Der Dekan, who for good reason is the muscle (and belly!) of the operation while I am obviously the brain, came a little too close. He sat on me!
I could either get up right away and hiss at him or look extremely cute to make Mom think I have finally learned to tolerate the little creep. I opted for a mix of the two. For ten, fifteen minutes, I was cute while cursing den Dekan on the inside. I do have to admit, however, that he didn't play his part too badly. There were no stupid attempts to bite my neck or lick my ears, and no slap attacks.
Well, and Bruce - all sharks in this house are called Bruce - has been a cool dude from the very start.

When I finally decided we had had a good first meeting and needed to split to keep it believable, I gave him one short hiss and he got up and walked away, just like that.
Now if Mom weren't such an extremely suspicious woman! I guess it has to do with all those years of cats around here.

No worries, though. We can lurk for a very long time until we finally pounce.
We've got this!

P.S. I don't care much for Mom calling us The Gang now, though ...

I'm still afraid of no shark

Shortly after I moved in here, Ponder had a talk with Mom about me "being dangerous" and producing this photo of me and one of my shark friends for proof.

I wish I could show him in person that I'm still befriending sharks like this one that swam into the house today, on a wave of humidity, no doubt (seriously, it's hot!).
Look, Ponder! Mom says hi. We miss you.

A new gal in town

I still remember when I was the new gal in town, a little more than six years ago. Can you believe it has already been that long?
Now it was time for another lady to move in. She's just a tad bigger than I, has a piercing look, and is very soft. Her name is Leonie.
Of course der Dekan had to try and suck up to her right away, playing the big tough guy card first and then trying to win her over by getting all cutesy with her.

The real reason Leonie came here, however, even if the egocentric little brat refuses to acknowledge that, is so we could become best friends. I can tell her everything and she can tell me, well, not much really, but she's a great listener, I can tell you (Mom says all Steiffs are great listeners, except for Jocko who's monkeying around too much ... which is actually a bad pun on Jocko being a Steiff chimpanzee *eyeroll*).
Leonie makes you feel very safe and relaxed.

The only thing we hate is if Mom is intruding on our feline girl time!!

I am grateful to her, though, for bringing Leonie here (initially as a birthday gift to herself) and then giving her this spot on the bed which she did just for us, by the way.

Hunter or thief?

I have lived in the streets. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, and decided to never go back after Mom offered me a warm bed, armchairs, rugs, and blankets almost exactly five years ago. Yup, on May 23rd, we ladies celebrated the best thing that has ever happened to Mom (and I don't care if she's trying to tell me about her other gotcha stories).
Der Dekan didn't celebrate. He didn't have time for it, there are always things to do.
That's fine with me, I like my special time with Mom. She tells me how beautiful I am - true - how lucky she was to get a gorgeous girl like me - true - and she even gave me bits of cheese - don't tell anyone, I'm not really supposed to have it, but there were no bad consequences, so don't scold her. Of course she can't resist me. Who can?
Anyway, I know where I want to stay and what I want to do and don't want to do.
I don't steal, I'm sweet, I'm as loyal as I can be, and I don't steal. Oops, did I say that twice? You know where I'm getting at, do you ..... Let me tell you a story.

It was two weeks ago.
Mom was in a whiny mood because her back had gone back out some time before, and although she could already perform the important tasks around the house again - food and water for us and our litterboxes - she still walked like an 80 year old and moaned so much that it was kind of hard to nap in peace.
Suddenly I heard her laugh out, though.
Apparently, she had looked for something in her underwear drawer and found a black undershirt that she had only worn once or twice in years, so she decided that it was time to get rid of it. She put it down next to her, but when she was done and turned around, the shirt had gone.
As it's rather a rare event for shirts to go walking on their own, she immediately knew her main suspect. He was rather small, had stripes and had been a hardcore criminal since his early youth.
When she went looking for the culprit, this is what she saw ...

A feeble attempt at hiding the goods in the usual place, his "play rug".

As she followed him through the flat, still laughing, the criminal still tried to escape with the loot. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth between the hallway and the rug - no doubt hoping for the door to freedom to open which didn't happen.

Slippery PVC is every thieving kitty's enemy, especially if both his front feet are on a shirt that makes it even worse. I really wish there were a video of this because I have to admit it made me laugh, too.
It looked to me as if this escape had not been planned very well.

In the end, the shirt ended up on the play rug from where it disappeared shortly after. Believe it or not, but it hasn't been found yet ......

Now you tell me. Is der Dekan a mighty hunter as Mom claims or is he just the little thief that I take him for?

Ride, boldly ride to the end of the rainbow .....

Yeah, I wish I could ride to the end of the rainbow ... without Mom singing along, however ... maybe then I would get a moment peace and quiet here!
Okay, it's not that bad. Der Dekan likes to sleep with Mom, on her pillow, in her arm, even on her chest by his own will, and that gives me time to do my own stuff, like sitting on the newish cat tower, sleeping in the office chair or on the armchair, for example. Or to go for a ride.
You know how little brothers are, though. You have something, they want it. The top of the stairs which usually gets us both thrown out of the room because Mom is afraid we are going to end up on her head, the ball you are playing with, the food you are eating while their own plate is still full, I could keep going like that.

Where I'm drawing the line is Liese. The Steiff sheep (that has no name, poor thing) and Liese are mine. I'm the rider here. Of course Mom keeps trying to tell me that all cats loved riding Liese or sleeping on her, but I don't care about "all cats". I'm putting my paw down here. The brat has to learn that there are limits, even for him!
And this time, I prevailed. That'll teach him, don't you think?

"I wanna ride, too!"

"GO away."

"Pfff, I didn't want to ride after all."

Funny how unimpressed Liese is with all of this. I guess she must have seen a lot in her 50-some years on this planet!

Self-service

"Gundel, I know that you are busy ironing my jeans with your butt, but can we have a short word?"
"Again? What is with you? Talking, talking, talking. Are you bored because of self-isolation and think you have to annoy me all the time? I'm starting to think about getting a restriction order."
"Oh yeah? How about I get a restriction order, so you won't take up all the space on my pillow in bed all the time?"
"You love when I sleep on your pillow. Even then you can't keep your hands off me and stop talking. Admit it."
"Yeah, okay. It's true. You are so cute when you sleep and your fur is so soft and ..."
"Get a grip, lady! So what is it you wanted to talk with me about?"
"Valerian."
"Geez, now what have I done?"
"This."

"That's the bag in which your offering of a brandnew valerian pillow came. What about it?"
"I had put it on the side, you were not supposed to open it yourself."
"What, now I have to ask you if I take something that's mine, anyway? You should be the one reprimanded for leaving it out."

She looked so silly with her mouth open like that when I left her standing there. Honestly, if she doesn't want me to take something, she should put it away.
By the way, if you are worried, I didn't eat the plastic. This is just the cleaned up version of the bag. In fact, it was the only plastic bag I ever ripped apart. That pillow sure smelled good. Or so I thought. I guess it had been the other one that I had killed a few weeks ago whose scent was still lingering. I left the new pillow on the spot, it was boring.
But hey, at least I didn't pee on it. That should make Mom happy, shouldn't it? ;-)