Saturday, July 26, 2003
I'm SO mad at Momma. She keeps putting that cold stuff in my ears. I've showed her my extreme displeasure, by not playing with her At All.
That Daddy Fella says "Patra, you're breaking your Momma's heart!". Well, GOOD. Maybe she'll stop HURTING me with that MEDICINE.
See? I told you, I'm on strike. I've refused to play with ANYthing. She's tried with all my favorite toys. The yarn was the hardest to resist, but I did!
So there, Momma. Teach you to torment a poor little kitty!
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
I've had a really Bad Day today! Momma told me that I had to go to the vet, today, which I hate. She said it was to get medicine so I could always stay young and pretty. That seemed pretty important, and I know General never had young-and-pretty medicine, and look at him, so. . . How bad could it be, is what I thought.
First off, I had forgotten about that awful carrier thingee. I hate that thing! When I realized that Momma was trying to put me in it, I ran FAST. She grabbed at me and got my tail. It HURT. I hollared and hissed at her, but she just kept on until she caught me and shoved me in that dark, stuffy, miserable little hole.
The trip in the car was scary, too. She drives too fast. Plus, I can't help but remember the first time I ever rode in a car. . . . that's when I was dumped out. Riding in the car makes me afraid I'll be dumped out again.
We finally got to the vet and what's the first thing the lady does? She stuck a thingee in my--well. . . I really don't want to talk about it, but it was UNcomfortable and I did NOT like it!
Then came the vet lady and she stuck stuff in my ears and poked in my mouth and then hurt me with some sharp things, one in my shoulder and one in my butt.
I had had ENOUGH by that time. I wanted to go back home. I asked Momma to put me back in the carrier, but she wouldn't. Typical human. When you want in the carrier they won't let you, but they'll sure shove you in when you'd rather not!
The stress just finally got to me. I guess you could say the whole thing scared the poopies out of me, because. . .well. . I HAD to go poopie. Now. I couldn't wait.
I couldn't get in the carrier, so I had to find another place. There was a shelf on the wall, above the table. I crawled up there when Momma wasn't looking and got in position. It was a good place because there were all kinds of papers and stuff to poopie on. By the time Momma noticed me, I'd already poopied and was trying to find something to cover it up. The wallpaper didn't work.
Mean old Momma laughed at me. I think she's as crazy as a June bug. Who would laugh at a kittie who had had the poopies scared out of her, hmm?
Finally the vet came back, shoved something nasty down my throat and said I could go home. I was SO glad. I was even glad to see General.
I didn't talk to Momma until supper time, just to be sure she knew I was mad at her. Didn't seem to do any good, though, because as soon as I came in for supper, she and that Daddy fella held me down and poured cold stuff into my ears and smeared greasy stuff into my eye.
They are SO mean.
This has been The Worst day EVER.
Sunday, July 20, 2003