Banshee and Gladys are in trouble. Deep, deep doo-doo.
Banshee began it. Such a sweet kitty...except at 6:45, when he decides I need to be up. He got himself deposited outside. After all, what possible reason could he have for waking me at 6:45? It MUST be a pressing need to go out, right? He couldn't be demanding breakfast at that ungodly hour, could he? There are still crunchies in the dish...
And then, Gladys. I do wish she would quit peeing on the stove. And, if she must pee on the stove, why does she have to find the one spot where there is a hole straight through to the oven?
Cleaning and disinfecting stovetop and oven, before coffee, is not my idea of a Labour Day Cebrelation.