Annabelle’s been naughty. My housemate Steve’s houseplant has been groomed, landscaped, adjusted, mowed, attacked daily by Little Missy.
I realize cats are supposed to eat green stuff. I guess it’s like salad. Good for their innerds.
I still feel bad. At least Steve laughed about it. It’s a BIG plant. It’s not like I can put it on the dining room table out of reach. We’d be eating under a somewhat scrawnier canopy of fronds.
See the black heart her two hind legs make when she puts them together? Cool, eh?
How can I get mad at a face like that? I am so wrapped around her little finger(s).
Maybe we can keep the plant on top of the dryer?