A Weighty Matter

It seems that some people don't truly believe me when I mention Molly's ever-expanding and, admittedly, almost incredible girth. They seek proof.

Well, your wish is my command, Doubting Thomases. But consider yourselves warned.

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Wild Kingdom

Well, we had some (more) excitement the other night. We woke up to some unidentifiable bumps and scraping sounds. I sent Molly off to investigate but she didn't discover much. (Useless!) The humans were worried and got up to listen at various places in the house and peek out of windows. They didn't discover much, either. (I will refrain from epithets here since they not only feed me but also can read.)

Finally, they heard dragging sounds emanating from what seemed to be the back room, so my female human called the police, who showed up not too terribly long afterwards and looked around. (So I was told, anyway; I stayed on the bed for most of the goings-on. I failed to see what my getting all ruffled would accomplish.) They didn't find anything amiss. So my humans were a little embarrassed but as my female human said in an upbeat yet undeniably trite way, "Better safe than sorry!" After the policemen left, Molly and I went outside to investigate for ourselves. There didn't seem to be anything unusual underway, or over with, for that matter.

My humans have decided something is living in the attic, though they don't know what, since it sounded like something being dragged across the floor. A squirrel moving insulation about to fashion a cozy nest, perhaps? An owl dragging sad little carcasses to its dark, creepy lair of bones and blood? Or maybe this is the awful dwelling-place of Mothra or Godzilla or the Hideous Freak-Thing That Killed Them?!

I'm SO glad they're looking at houses so we can get out of this creepshow they like to call a "house" and a "yard." ¡Santa Maria, protect me!