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Apparently it’s National Take your Cat to the Vet Week. For real. I swear. Who even knew such a thing existed? SHE came home laughing about this the other night, clearly without a card or gift for me in honor of the "holiday"... While she attempted to lure me into my posh carry case... To go to the vet. I could let you believe she’s solely taking me to the vet because it’s the cool thing to do this week, but seeing as I JUST went two months ago, I’ll disclose that I’m being taken because I was having some, uh... Gastro issues. I can’t wait to be held down and told I’m fat and have excessive tooth tartar again.
For this trip she smartened up and had her man friend come help her carry me to the vet’s office. I’ve however smartened up as well, and when I see the case I know there’s a 50/50 chance I’m either going to the vet or the resort, and this time I didn't like my odds. So I ran as far away from the case as possible, only to be grabbed and shoved in there with no compassion for my cute little meows of mercy. The vet said I probably ate something I shouldn’t have (there are such things??), felt up my tummy, claimed I gained half a pound since last time and that my “fat pad” got bigger. Listen bitch, if you keep spewing these lies to my guardian, I will stop partaking of delicious treats. And if you try to stick your finger in my mouth again... watch what happens. What the hell is a “fat pad”? You made that up. Then you charged her $100. Now she’s mad at me and going on about “remember who pays your bills” and “cost as much as this sweater.” Don’t look at me, all I did was have the runs...
I’m still young, even though I’m fast approaching 3 years. I have my whole life ahead of me to follow my calling and find my ultimate destiny. I thought it was going to be feline modeling. I really had my heart set on that. I practiced doing my little turns on the CATwalk, on the catwalk, yea, I shook my little tush. I was too damn sexy for your party with my disco dancing. But it doesn’t seem to be working out, I’m not getting any gigs. My sweet puss face has yet to take over the world. So alas, I must find another avenue to pursue. Like gymnastics. I’ve been sprinting and vaulting around the palace like a 3 foot tall, 65 pound, underdeveloped 14 year old Chinese girl. I was built for this! On the internets it says that gymnastics is “exercises requiring physical strength, flexibility, agility, co-ordination, balance, and grace.” Score! I have all of those things!!!!
I pushed over the garbage can that weighed 6 pounds... Half my body weight.
I can put my hind leg over my head and lick my ass.
I can leap refrigerators in one bound.
I’m a cat.
I’m not so sure about the leotard thing though...
So yes my fine followers, I’ve been a complete slacker for the past 6 weeks. I don’t even really remember what I’ve been up to for all that time, since time really doesn’t register for me. I spend my days chillaxin, eating, and ruining things and really one day becomes another and all of a sudden it’s 6 weeks later and people are mad that I haven’t been sharing the goings on in my 9 lives. Allow me to catch you up.
We got a rug in the palace. I like to scratch it. She yells at me.
I apparently now have this thing called a cat sitter. Some old gentleman who came by to see where my food and box are, identify me as the cat of the house and pick me up and annoy me. He’s kinda lame. He’ll be coming to check on me when SHE’s away... So I’ve been studying some movies called Don’t tell mom the babysitter’s dead, and Home Alone for ideas on how to improve this situation.
I got dragged to the vet. They manhandled me, gave me 2 shots, said I needed to have a “waist” ie, stop feeding me, told HER to try brushing my teeth because I have tartar buildup (I will eat her hand), all the while I pretended to look scared to death and she almost cried.
I was THIS close to devouring a chicken pita she left unattended on the table. Curiously that strange man she hangs out with didn’t seem to care. I think he realized the injustice of me always begging for food and never getting any. Unfortunately mid-bite she spotted me and lost her shit. I got yelled at. Better luck next time.
I found this really cool brown paper bag house. I pretend I live there. Alone. Without her.
The garbage can became really, really heavy and difficult to knock over. Almost like there was a 5 pound weight in the bottom of the can. I actually think there might be. Ever determined, and bored, I decided to do some kitty push-ups and shoot up some FgH (feline growth hormone) and finally succeeded at knocking that puppy over the other day and chowing down on the salmon scraps that were in there. I then promptly threw up all over the entry way... and got yelled at. Are you sensing a theme here?
