“That does it,” said the cat. “I’m calling in the big guns.”

And with that, she left the bedroom – me, Beloved and Miss R (in her crate), newly returned from the puppy sitters. The puppy wasn’t happy about being crated shortly after joyously returning home, but it was getting late.

Miss R then demonstrated her shrieking prowess to my visiting daughter. Blondie has been here since before Christmas, as we’ve been looking at bridal gowns for her wedding in August. That dawg wanted OUT and to climb into bed with us, but noooooope. So Blondie, in the bedroom directly below us, got to enjoy a concert.

A rather extended one.

Executed in such a way Gotterdammerung would not be able to compete.

So the cat, furious at the whole situation after having the run of the house for two weeks while we dealt with Granny’s broken hip/leg, stalked out of the bedroom.

Granny was peacefully asleep when she awoke to a furious, miserable feline on her abdomen.

Cat: Do you know what they’ve done?!

Granny: Pooooosie cat? 

Cat: This is completely unacceptable.

Granny: MaeMae? What’s wrong, deah?

Cat, starting to pace as she teared up: NOT RIGHT. They brought that damn dog back! They PROMISED!

Granny, puzzled: Promised?

Cat: No. More. Dogs.

Granny, scritching her ears: I’m not sure that’s entirely correct. 

Cat: Well, it was as good as a promise. They took her away. She could’a stayed. It’s not acceptable. And… and… what are you supposed to do?

Granny: Me?

Cat: You! That dog randomly throws herself on people! You… you’re injured. You can’t have animals jumping on you when you’re not prepared, they could hurt you. We need to get rid of that dog.

Granny, gazing at the cat sitting unbidden on her tum: Yes… well… that IS quite… rude, hopping on people when they’re unprepared.

Cat: EXACTLY! We should banish her immediately. For the good of the family.

Granny: Well, if you insist, but we must treat everyone equally, you know…

Cat: what?

Granny: You’re… on… my… tummy…

Cat, flouncing: That’s not the same.

So we took advantage of Blondie being home and she set up appointments at four bridal shops. I have now seen gowns the likes of which I never imagined. I cannot go into much detail as of course I don’t want to spoil any surprises, but gads, there was one… it caught her eye when she went into the shop in Beverly Hills (I know, I know…) and was well outside her budget, but they let her try it on anyway.

It had blown on sparkly bits, kind of like someone had a mouthful of glitter puff paint fabric when they heard a joke and spewed it all over the dress. The pattern was almost tacky hibiscus flowers with the giant stemens, y’know, like on aloha shirts. Oh, dear god. It hung in such a way it looked like curtains in a Hawaiian whorehouse. 

No, I’m not including pictures. Sorry.