I am not amused.
Honestly, how much water can there possibly be in the sky?
I am fully aware that I reside in the Great Northwest. I know that the Great Northwest is known for its' prodigious annual rainfall.
But, who do I have to smack to get a sunbeam?
It has been raining everyday for the last bajillion days.
Everything is wet. I don't do wet. Wet is what happens when the two leggers get annoyed and chase me with the water squirty thingy. Wet is what happens when Ivan forgets that two leggers just put water in the tub thingy. Wet is what happens when I knock over a glass that the two leggers neglected to take to the kitchen. (Ok, that last one is somewhat amusing, but you get my point.)
If there was a bright side, I may try to gaze upon it. But, there is no bright side!
Everything is dark and dismal.
However, this eternal deluge does have a few amusing aspects.
For instance: It confuses Ivan. Whenever I notice that Ivan has found a comfy spot and settled down for a power nap, I jump onto a windowsill and yell "Sweet! Sunbeam!" Ivan knocks over furniture in his misguided attempt to enjoy a solar nap. Of course, as soon as he reaches the window, I tell him in a sympathetic voice "Sorry old buddy, you just missed it."
The truly sad thing is that he even falls for this ruse at night.
Tiger Lily is naturally whining about the rain. I'd smack her, but I think she would welcome the pain as a relief from the monotony.
There is one silver lining to the cloud upon cloud outside my window.
That silver lining naturally involves the indigenous squirrel population. As miserable as it is to sit and watch the rain from my window day after day, I know in my little feline heart that the squirrels have it worse. Sitting in their soaked, dirty little nests, not a single mangy, hair unmatted. Given the fact that raincoats do not come in nasty little vermin sizes, they must be beyond miserable.
Wow, I feel much better now. Think I'll go make Tiger Lily's day.