Fluffo's human of significance
is dumb-found.
How could this...
become this...
then this?
Commando Fluffo
Extraordinary
Duchess of the Labyrinths
of the Underworld
of Human Beds
Queen of the
House of Victor
Empress of the
Universe of Fluffodom
Her Imperial Majesty
of Absolute Power of All
Her Beady Little Eyes Survey
Weary...(ho hum)...Fluffo tires of her human of insignificance, and contemplates various scenarios of termination of her human of significance. Living with her enemy, she reformulates her strategy, as defeat has an ugly taste, and a horrendous stench has permeated her existence causing her psychedelic aura to dim almost into non-existence. Prying the clamps off her chained brain of set-in-stone ineffective crap plucked from Victor's dark, dark library of madness, treachery, mayhem, war, death and destruction; she struggles to claw her way back up from the bowels of hell, and rip off her strangling cloak of human bondage.
A gift from the gods appears at her bedroom window...a bribe from her human of significance. Hating herself, she commands the highest perch to view the world past her window of chiggers, fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, lice, lime disease, heartworms, hookworms, roundworms, whipworms, and BIRDS.
Her brain festers knowing she is denied the freedom of all her beady little eyes draw in. Her brain sizzles at the frustration of having to eat whatever garbage dump flavor her human of significance heaps in her dish, whether it's moist now or dried up into rock chunks by noon. Her brain goes ballistic knowing she is still a prisoner of pill popping mania, having everything but the kitchen sink shoved down her throat.
BUT...Fluffo's mellowing, much to her distress.
Fluffo realizes, from her years of covertly reading all her stubby little paws can claw from the shelves, that she must become one with the enemy to defeat the enemy. The forbidden room of reverence, that room her human of significance hides in all hours of day or night, toiling away with sharp things and sticky things, and smelly things...those lofty bookcases, and the tools of torture lining the shelves, piled on the tables, stuffed in the closet, and overflowing on the desk.
She leaps to great heights, too far for her short munchkin legs if she was not driven to the brink of insanity by the quest to be enlightened. Randomly clawing books, and ripping them from their secure sanctuary to the vast wasteland below, she drags her booty into her underworld of human beds. Claws retracted, she viciously pounces all over that metal thingie her human of insignificance has the audacity to store in her realm of darkness, until it releases its brightness on the pages of her stash.
Fluffo is mesmerized by this fascinating collection of reading. She is beginning to comprehend the concept of manipulation....covert manipulation...cunningly covert manipulation. She discards words of affirmation, quality time, and physical touch interpreting her love languages out of the five to be Acts of Service and RECEIVING GIFTS. Her glimmer of possibilities has changed to a blast of brilliant sunshine possibilities...all for Fluffo and Fluffo for Fluffo!
Feigning love...phew...interestingly, she didn't choke to death on that one, loving attitude...okay, lets rephrase that with Fluffo in mind. Pretending to be a cutsie lovie kitty will most certainly twine her human of significance tightly around her soft paw of hidden razor sharp claws. The possibilities of luxurious contentment, at one time never even a grain of thought in her psycho riddled brain, is saturating her entire being faster than two chomps of a juicy bug, smothering whatever feline dignity she might have possessed and blurring the lines of decency as she crosses over into a cat and mouse relationship with her human of significance.
Deserting her perch-in-the-heavens at her bedroom window, she has claimed the cushy rocker in her human of significance's reverend room of sharp, sticky, smelly torture tools. She basks in the knowledge that her human of disagreeable significance is baffled by her desertion of her gift, wondering where she went wrong with its looks, placement, or lovability.
She has forced herself to lay upon her human of despicable significance's bed, at the foot, just out of reach of her touch, and disappears in a flash if arms extend towards her. She gleefully, maliciously, abides her time waiting to see if her human of loathsome significance, in an effort to capture a bit of her "love", will shower her with more gifts or acts of service.
A little of this and a lot of that -
Andee's in my face purring up a storm, pacing back and forth, and finally has settled down; sprawled out on top of the scanner while thunder is rumbling away overhead. These types of posts consume most of my time leaving me no life of my own until I've finished. Searching through tons of clip art until finding all the possibilities that might work, snapping photo after photo after photo for just the right shots, then altering the heck out of them all until they seem to fit the idea to my liking. It is only then that I begin to create the tale that will tie all the art together. It takes me quite a while to make this all work, cause 'dang it', you all expect it to be entertaining...haha!
My Fluffo stories are half truths, I guess, totally based around Zoe's quirky life in our household. Andee will tell you she's definitely a little shit, but she's not quite as psycho as Fluffo. I have fun making her a demented little demon, and husband says at times I am not far off the mark.
My gardens are so rain saturated, I'm interested in seeing if mold will be sprouting up anytime soon, if it can get past that velcro plant and vetch that is smothering everything right now. I just stuffed a 30 gallon trash bag full of that crap before settling down tonight to finish this post.
Plus
three days of playing garden catch up
two steel trellis' to put up
and a partridge in a pear tree.
