Supermash

I should get an award. I am the best!

You all know about the apartment flooding several years ago and that the slave would have slept through the whole thing and probably would have floated out the window, had I not saved her life. It wasn’t easy and took hours of howling and jumping on her (it’s like waking the dead—she’d yell, push me off, and go right back to her snoring and slobbering).

After the water filled all of the rooms in our apartment and you could hear it pouring through the floor and into the apartment below, I knew I had to take drastic measures to avoid drowning.

I swam through the ice cold waters and tried waking the smelly, drunk man that lived in the closet and had most likely caused the disaster to begin with. This was a horribly desperate attempt since I knew that he routinely slept through these horrible buzzing and beeping noises every morning (despite the fact that the noises were loud enough to wake everyone else in the building).

Still no luck. We were all doomed to death if I didn’t think of something quick.

That’s when it occurred to me: jump on the slave WET!

Sure enough, it finally registered through her fogged-up brain that it was 3am; I was soaking wet and cold, howling and most insistent that she get up NOW!

So basically, the slave, the drunk man, myself, and the weasels would have all met watery deaths had I not been so brave that night.

Well, I’ve earned my keep yet again, in a big way.

The new ferret was getting out everyday while the slave was gone and doing absolutely horrible things (like chewing up her important papers on the counters and the kitchen table) then leaving big clumps of earwax and pieces of my fur behind to get me in trouble. She’d sneak back into her cage before the slave would get home and then I’d get blamed. There are reasons why the words sneaky and weasel are so often used in the same breath.

Much to my delight, the slave came home early last week. I raced to the door and did my “Lassie—hurry and follow me” act (mostly reserved for luring the slave and unsuspecting house guests into my room and encouraging them to brush me) and amazingly, the slave knew this was something serious and raced after me!

She caught the nasty little bitch in the bathroom garbage and my name is now cleared! Whew!

If the slave knew how much I beat on that little stretched rat to keep her out of my room and my things, I probably would have been in trouble myself…

But I’m off the hook! This means that I can do whatever I want and the weasels get blamed! Damn, I can’t wait until the slave leaves again—she brought home an awesome new plant that I can not wait to chew on!
~Mashed Potato~