My routine has changed a lot since I came home. Lesli's gone a lot. We spent the whole spring and summer together, and now she leaves early in the morning and comes home late at night. I'm ok - I get exercise and I get fed - but I just don't get why this sudden change.
So I took it out on a kangaroo last night.
He's from Australia. Or, I should say, "she" - there's a baby kangaroo in her pouch. And she's been sitting on a shelf in Lesli's office, where she keeps her mementos from her political travels. I've left that kangaroo alone, just like I've left the lobster and Corn Cob Bob to live in peace as well.
But no more.
Last night, while she watched the news, I snuck upstairs and kidnapped the damned kangaroo. I brought it back downstairs, and hid behind the loveseat, silently torturing it while I knawed away on one of its legs.
And I would have finished the job if too if little balls hadn't started coming out of the leg as I chewed it, alterting the human to my evil plan.
She swooped in and saved the kangaroo. And with some surgery, it will live.
But have no fear...I will succeed with my next victim.
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