Category: Pookies Journal
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If my tail has graced it, if my fur has coated it, or if my soul has napped upon it—it’s mine. Should a human dare claim the throne (i.e., the warm laundry pile), they shall be judged silently from across the room… and then shunned until snack tribute is presented. The humans may desire “cuddles”…
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Volume 31🐾 The Pookie Chronicles: Nap Denied, Dignity Delayed I had carved out a perfect nap nook.Warm laundry. Freshly folded. The kind that still smells like lavender despair and dryer sheets that cost more than my vet visits. It was time. I curled my magnificent tail around my little meatloaf body and began descending into…
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Volume 23- 5:31 PM. The humans begin their ritual. They call it “dinner.” I call it “The Hour of Loud Furniture and Sauce-Based Disasters.” I position myself precisely eleven inches from the table—close enough for surveillance, far enough to avoid spaghetti collateral. The toddler arrives first. Chunk, the tiny warlord. Cheeks smeared with cheese remnants…
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Volume 13: The Return of the Goblin — 4:03 PM. School is out. Peace is over. I hear him before I see him. Thundering through the foyer like a linebacker made of graham crackers and ambition. The three-year-old—Chunk—has returned. I brace. His backpack hits the floor. His shoes remain on. This concerns me. He calls…
