This post is also available in : French

Zorro is 10 months old ; he is a blasé teenager whom my slaps do not impress any more : he just waits for the storm to pass. The worst, it is I who makes me scold by the hoomans when I content with reminding to him who is the leader !

Then, I decided to redo my adolescent crisis also : I rebel, I defy prohibitions.

It is forbidden to bring a prey inside : I brought back a bird in the kitchen on Saturday, and I left wings and tail as track of my misdeed. Claire saw, but forgot to say it to Momo. On Sunday, I thus brought back a mouse ; Momo tried to take it to me, but I was faster than him, and I stopped eating it in another room.

It is forbidden to go on the table when there is a tablecloth : on Sunday morning, I settled down on the tablecloth, and I enjoyed Claire’s lunch (oat flakes, it was yucky ! ).

It is forbidden to be unrefined with its hoomans : I blew them because something had opposed me (and I took off…)

I am a rebel, without roof (unless it is raining), nor law (unless you offer me a treat) !