The spring pot of catnip is robust and leafy.

Upon first offer, Jeff passed by. No thank you.

Oh, all right then. A taste.

One taste became many… then things got a bit blurry.

We previously established that all beds are mine.

Sometimes the computer makes a nice bed.

The dog’s bed, you say?

Interesting.

I see no dog.

And as I am presently occupying this bed, I think it’s obvious that said bed is in fact mine.

Now that I think on this topic, I seem to recall that all beds are mine.

So I enjoy rolling about in the grass on a sunny day. Who doesn’t?

Then I can take a little bit of outside back in with me. As a bonus, I find this generates an amusing flurry of Staff activity.

You should try it.

The Staff’s quality of service has slipped recently. I am very annoyed at being kept indoors while they claim silly excuses like “raining,” “nighttime,” and “40 degrees.”

When I am through sleeping on this, I might consider packing my things.

I see there are some sour cream traces in that bowl.

I’ll take care of that for you.

I see you are “cooking” over there.

I have some significant concerns regarding your technique. In addition, that food does not appear to be designed for my consumption.

Significant. Concerns.

Due to mercurial cat reasons I am not inclined to explain, I disapprove of the NBA Playoffs. Your television is large; my presence is larger.

I have spoken.

It’s hot… but not too hot for killing.

The Dark One is lurking nearby again. He is obviously a footsoldier of the apocalypse. I will stare at him with greatest intensity until his head explodes.