I am always happy to see Grandma’s cat, Charlie, come down to visit. He loses his lunch (or breakfast or supper) more often than I do. Sorry, Charlie!
Charlie seems to be a really cool cat, but he must have some underlying “issues.” He barbers his stomach. Grandma finds tufts of black fur all over her house. He has been to the vet for analysis, but there seems to be no physical illness or other detectable cause. Of course, he develops huge furballs! Sorry, Charlie!
Charlie, Go Home!
After Mom has to clean up one of his (how shall I say it politely?) “outputs,” she is happy to send him home again. He seems to strike at the most inconvenient times. For instance, Mom finally gets home, settles in on her laptop, and starts to read her email. What’s that sound she hears? Oh, no! Either Charlie or I have been “up to no good,” and Mom has to get up to clean up. I am always relieved when it is not MY fault Mom is annoyed.
I’m Trying to Be Sorry, Charlie!
It’s time for Mom to send you home now. Poor boy!