Sorry about the bad Steinbeck pun in the title, I couldn't resist.
Imogene III (I'm unsure about the name,
avionflew named her and all I can remember was that it was a Victorian-sounding girls' name) ate the freakin' bathroom door last night! I heard a scratching noise last night, assumed it was coming from my room, and refused to get out of bed. Earlier in the evening she ran across my feet and I was decidedly unimpressed. When I walked into the bathroom (Tess warned me in advance, but still...) little chips of wood everywhere!
Ick.