Life With My Baroness Simona Bebe

 

She isn't even denying her intentions anymore. It's like a daily episode of Prison Break around here. I need to GPS her and turn her collar into some kind of two way communication system so I can talk to whomever finds her. And cat seeking drones. Lots of cat seeking drones.

 

 

And she tried to do something to the back screen. She denies it but I know she did it. Now until I figure out how to give a shit about fixing that, I have secured it with duct tape like all the classy houses do on the reserve. She has the perfect daytime and nighttime room there to just sit and watch everything going on. She gets sun in the morning and gets to sharpen her cat instincts at night. Wet and dry food on demand but lots of brushing and loving even though I still cannot hold her for more than ten seconds without her freaking out. Same cat will fall asleep beside me and demand I scratch her exposed belly for 20 minutes. And like a punk bitch I accommodate her. And still, she plots to escape the Castle. She is fixed so it's not some Latvian Prince.

 

How know white cat? If living here is so terrible then maybe I should just open the door and let you go but since you is a dumbass I can't do that. Being Royalty does not negate the fact that you make reckless choices and hang with reckless people with reckless beliefs. If I could trust you I would consider a harness and leash arrangement but I know you would just howl for it all the time.