Got up yesterday morning and found my mobile phone on the rug under the kitchen table, with the lovely leather case all chewed around the edges. I'm missing a sock, too; one of a pair that I bought in Topshop in London. I dropped it about a month ago when I was taking my washing downstairs to the laundry; by the time I came back upstairs to retrieve it, it was gone. No idea where it ended up. Earlier today I heard a weird crashing noise in the loungeroom, and upon investigation I found Ziggy with the swing-top of a small rubbish bin wedged around his middle. He was flopping about like a fish out of water, trying to dislodge it. Every workday morning he steals my socks from the vanity counter, and will steal my toothbrush and toothpaste too if I don't move them out of reach. One of the handles of my good handbag has teeth marks in it, as do the uprights on two of my dining chairs. Two of my Tower Bridge collectible plates were in pieces on the floor last Saturday when I got home. The souvenir boomerang I brought back from Darwin disappeared for ages; finally found it (along with half a dozen wrapped sweets, a toy mouse, and numerous hair ties) under the tv cabinet.
I have never had a cat like Ziggy before. He has to investigate everything with his teeth. Anything left on the kitchen bench he considers fair game. He feels the need to reassure himself that I'm still here about ten times per night - and I wonder why I always feel tired. I love this cat to bits but he is slowly driving me crazy!