P.O.V of my Cat, Sherlock. His deep and meaningful interpretation of paper-cutting as art.
:-There IT (my human slave) goes again. IT’s making noise and scrunching up the paper into a ball for me. I go into the bin and get a hold of it. I throw it in the air, ignoring my humans lamented cry of “Why are am such utter crap?!” That reminds me to leave a gift in the litter tray later on.
I try to cheer IT up as she travels to the box room, to pick up more paper, but she seems displeased as I wrap myself around her legs and make her trip. She goes back to her main room, via the bathroom where she puts a plaster (band aid) on her finger. She is foolishishly trying to cut tiny shapes into paper – yet does she ever once bring a mouse home for me??- No she does not.
By nighttime, she is tired and that is when she tries, stupid human, to do the most complicated cuts. A lot of paper balls are created. That is good.
P.O.V of Scribblewold
Yay – I made a late night one!!