I haven't had a Bad Dewey Kitty story for weeks.
This spring, the orange kitty insisted on going outside. He spends hours each day chasing butterflies and galloping after birds. Even with his goofy gait, he's managed to catch a few. In the past months, he's mastered tree-climbing and continues to work on getting those outdoor cats to play.
When he comes inside in the evening, he's tired and ready to sleep.
But when the temperatures dipped into the 50s and the rains came, he didn't want to go outside. He snuggled and slept, until he was no longer tired. Then, his hunting instinct kicked in.
When I came downstairs to pack my lunch, I found the box with the cupcakes turned upside down. Upon righting it, I noticed the chewed and torn hole in the corner.
"Dewey," I muttered.
He sauntered to me and rubbed against my legs... Just like old times.