Midgardians have a lot of holidays and special days. Every time I turn around, some politico or commission is designating this or that day National Navel Lint Day or International Gorgonzola Week or some such nonsense. Just plain silliness, if you ask me.
Perhaps the oddest one of all is Red Nose Day. Ostensibly, it’s a fundraiser benefiting small, sticky humans. A few years ago, the mortals in this house purchased a nose, intending to take it with them on their trip to London, since Red Nose Day fell during their time away. Once there, however, I distracted them until the perfect moment, at which point I reminded them that, in the U.K., Red Nose Day comes only every other year and they were the only ones feeding everyone else’s coulrophobia.
It’s become something of a tradition—the humans find the nose and swear that this is the year, the day approaches, I distract them until Red Nose Day has come and gone once again, and the Nose remains unworn. Since the human female’s housekeeping “routine” doesn’t specify where the Nose is supposed to reside between failed attempts to actually participate, the Nose moves about from spot to spot. For the past year, it has been sitting on top of the tall case that holds the humans’ collection of music CDs.
Fandral’s mustache! What was that? It sounded like it came from the living room. Stick close behind me, Sigyn, and let’s go and investigate.
There’s something red on the floor.
Oh. It’s just one of the kitties’ foam balls. Whew! For a minute there, I thought we were being burgled or something.
But hey–what’s with all the holes? And what’s all the fuzz from?
And why does Flannel Cat look so guilty?