Enough already

This rain situation is wholly unacceptable. I have now withstood 15 days of sog-in-perpetuity (by which time, I have no doubt, the Ark had already floated from its scaffold), and my tolerance has officially reached its threshold.

The ground is now a useless muck; the fore and aft approaches to the fortress are coated in slime. A moat is forming down in the bunker. There is an unpleasant pungence in the air that is not (entirely) the Rodent's doing.

To make matters worse, the new gourmet pellets the Woman recently began distributing have suddenly reverted to their previous, insipid incarnation — it would seem the Woman, marooned within watery barriers and unable to replenish her supply, has been forced to tap auxiliary food stores. As an unfortunate but entirely forseeable result, Fabio has thrice barfed upon the purple throne, which certainly has not elevated his standing in the household.

If an expedition into the puddly muck is necessary in order to secure the appropriate rations and put an end to this regurgithon, then I shall volunteer. I am the only qualified survivalist and orienteer in this sorry lot anyway. All I require is a basic map and a rough bearing on the depot. (No, your so-called “cash” will not be needed — just let them try and prevent me from procuring my necessities.)

Or perhaps, if raise my claws to the heavens and summon all my mighty will, I can drive off these accursed torrents and restore warmth and light to my realm.

After my nap, maybe.