The cat I live with is an asshole.
I say "the cat I live with" as opposed to "my pet cat" because he doesn't seem to think he is a pet, and referring to him as a "pet" would lead you, dear reader, to believe that the cat knows his place in this household. "Pet" indicates that I have jurisdiction over him in some way. I don't. He does whatever he damn well pleases and gets away with it because he is adorable. The bastard.
Annnnnywaaaay....
For the past week, every time I walk into the bathroom, he jumps roughly 4 feet into the air and attaches himself to the bathroom doorframe. He hangs there like a monkey halfway up a tree. While he hangs there, on the doorframe, he gives me the "What is your problem?' face, EVERY SINGLE TIME.
The door frame is clawed to hell now. Wonderful.
So, I decide I'm going to photograph this recent act of cat defiance, but have been unsuccessful thus far. It seems that he is on to me, and won't repeat his jerk carnival for the camera. If I am able to get a photo of it, I'll post it... but don't hold yer breath.
He's the Michigan J. Frog of cats.
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