Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We are one day away from the middle of July, and that is fine by me. Summer is not the best season for those of us with built in fur coats, but no worries, my hoomans have this handled. Long before there was a me, (aka the Dark Ages) Papa was already a dab hand at creating fan networks so that air flow connects with air flow. Mama Anna put a banker’s box (it is full of vintage historical romance novels), thanks to Aunt Mary) in the perfect spot for me to catch that sweet spot. Sometimes, she puts an ice cube in my water bowl. That’s a fun treat.

What is not so fun is that my cardboard house got smushed. Papa was involved in that, but it was not really his fault. It was dark and there may have been cat toys on the floor where cat toys are normally not. The hardwood floor was clean, and therefore slippery for bare feet, and, well, they owe me a new cardboard house. Considering that Mama Anna’s pink office chair is done being a chair (Aunt Nicole says it’s not fixable) odds are good that a big enough box will be coming our way fairly soon. I should point out that I highly customized the pink leather of that chair, with my very own claws, too. One of a kind, right there, but no matter. I am up to customizing a new one.

In other news, I have told Mama Anna, in no uncertain terms, that A) she needs a new desk, because hers is too small. I need to be lying on her desk, not merely near it, like in my drawer, and B) This whole no way into the front master bedroom window thing is not going to work. I Want. In. That. Window. I am the kitty. I need to see what is going on outside my home, and that window is my, well, window on it. The printer table has got to move. I don’t know where Mama Anna should put it, but I need my window.

One way Mama Anna has thought of to get around this is to squish the kitchen table into the corner and do some of her work there. Neither Papa nor Aunt Linda like eating at that table because A) they are introverts, and B) the kitchen is, hm, cozy. They want to eat in their own rooms and they outnumber Mama Anna, so she is not going to fight that kind of thing. It also means a whole table for her own purposes, which might end up fixing that on the desk issue for me. I can totally get on that table, especially if there are empty chairs nearby. Bloop, bloop, there I am, on the same surface as Mama Anna. That’s because I am her mews, and because I need to be as close to her as I can be. Even on summer nights, I want my cuddles. She is okay with that because I smell really good. Also, she loves me.

How are you staying cool this summer?