#fortysevens is a cat mom

[fortysevenswrites]

Number of thoughts running through Bishop’s tiny head this morning: none

[fortysevenswrites]

Since I feel like we’re all in need of a little cute right now, here’s Bishop hiding under my giant stuffed dog.

From the front:

And from the back:

[fortysevenswrites]

Bishop: I would like some of your chocolate cake.

Me: Bishop, you are a cat, chocolate cake is not good for you.

Bishop: But what if chocolate cake was good for me?

[fortysevenswrites]

The worst day of the year is that day, twice a year, where I have to wrangle Bishop into her carrier and take her to the vet.

I could HEAR the echo of her unhappy meows across the parking lot when they took her in.

I am also not thrilled with this. The condo feels suuuuuuper off when she’s not here.

[fortysevenswrites]

I love my cat, I really, really do, but y’all, the sound she makes she she’s crunching on her nails is just *cringes with the force of a thousand suns*

[fortysevenswrites]

Bishop likes to cuddle, but only on HER terms. Specifically when I am on the couch napping. Love her dopey little face

[fortysevenswrites]

A piece of fluff of some kind has ended up on my balcony, so CLEARLY this means to Bishop that we need to loudly declare a Defcon 1 situation, and take cover under the protection of the yoga mat.