I Hate Hats

I hate hats. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I was traumatized by a hat as a little kitten and have repressed the memory. But I do know when someone walks in with a hat on, it makes my fur stand on end. My tail goes up and I look like a bushy raccoon ready for winter. Last night Dad's friend Brian came in with a hat on. Now he may be a nice guy, but I'm not going anywhere near him with that hat on.

Ugg, I shudder just recalling the memory. Nothing a little cat nip and a nap can't cure...