Baxter and Katie seem to have gone out to dinner and, while they were kind enough to bring me back a tasty piece of fish, they appear to have mistakenly put it inside a styrofoam container in the fridge, rather than, for instance, my food dish. I'm sure this will be remedied soon.
I woke up today, then I stretched out, yawned, and decided to take a brief nap. A little later I decided to leave the basket of laundry and on my way to the kitchen I ran into a comforter, which I decided warranted a good stretching and a nap. I eventually did make may way to the kitchen, where I selected a tasty combo of Kitten Chow "o"s and kitten chow "x"s for lunch. There was a good looking bowl of fresh water set out next to it, so I got a little bonus.
I found a mousey that I had recently misplaced and after standing up on my back paws like a little ewok and throwing it around for a while, I was left to think about Freud's discussion of the fetish object. While the step from random pointless thing to an object that bears some specific relation to the loved individual is easily distinguished, it is not entirely clear to me what it is that enables the object to become a true fetish as detached from that individual and itself overriding the entirety of the sexual aim.
After that I batted a pen around on the tile floor. It spins when you hit it on one side or the other, it also makes a really neat clicky noise.
Purr,
Hippo
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