A Pouty Cat Sunday In Smallville

Carlos and I decided today would be a good day to do some deep cleaning, so we worked from one end of the house to the other with vacuums and sprays and laundry baskets and window cleaners and furniture polishes and floor cleaners.

I planned dinner. Sunday is usually Carlos' day, but I was in the mood for marinated pork lion, so there you have it.

I gave Carlos a haircut. Not the pseudo-mohawk he wanted but something short so he won't have to mess with it too much.

I stripped the beds and was doing laundry, and wondered where the cats had gone. All of the them hide on cleaning day. I don't know if it's because they think they're getting a bath, or they simply don't like the turmoil.

I discovered Tallulah napping behind the love-seat in the sunroom.

MaxGoldberg hid under the guest room bed.

But Tuxedo was a harder find.
Until I walked in the bedroom and caught a glimpse of something cat-like.



I lay down on the bed and peered into the pile of blankets, and there he was. Hiding out because he doesn't like it when you clean; all his regular smells and places to play get cleaned up and put away.

I feel that way sometimes myself.

Crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after me.