Excusez moi mademoiselle, but there's a fly in my soup.
Okay, so it's not a fly.
Not soup, either.
And you, Missy, ain't no mademoiselle, for sure.
We'll start again.
Excuse me Peepers, but there's a hair in my kibble.
For mousin' out loud woman, ARE YOU BLIND?
Oh. Heh-heh... Uh... Never mind.
Okay, so the hair was actually fur, and it was kinda...
With spring just around the corner and the days gettin' longer, my fur IS shedding all over the place. It's hard to keep track of it all, you know? Hard to keep track of where I might be dropping said shed fur. It's also hard to keep track of what might be my fur, and what might be some peep's hair.
Of course, in this particular case, the orange did kinda give it away.
Yeah okay, so it most definitely was orange fur in my kibble this morning, and not ol' Peeper's stupid ol' hair.
BUT HOW DO I KNOW SHE hasn't been shedding her hair, elsewhere? Do the longer days of spring make peeps shed, too? Inquirin' minds are gonna wanna know, for sure.
And speaking of shedding, I, Seville the Cat, am NOT taking responsibility for the fur covering the peep's black jacket. Nope. No way. No how. I'm not the only cat living in this here house, you know.
Okay, so Rushy never really sheds and Mason doesn't like being picked up, so maybe I AM the only kitty with access to the jacket in question, but still...
But still, I'm not taking responsibility for the fur on that jacket on account of my knowing that the last time the peep took that jacket in to be cleaned - you know, to get rid of SOME kitty's fur - most of some kitty's fur wouldn't come off.
Yeah, I'm tellin' ya, it was like MISSION IMPOSSIBLE, the dry cleaner said. Would make a good movie, I think. If you're into that kinda thing.
Now where was I?
Hey Peepers! This strand of orange stuff might be fur and not hair, but it IS in my kibble, so...
So what are you gonna do about it, Peepers? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? Enquirin' minds wanna know.