The Longest Day in the World

Yesterday was the longest day in the world. The old lady came to my house and served me a dish of Savory Duck from the magic cupboard for breakfast, and then I slept in Softie's office chair.

Softie and the old lady turned up a little later and eye drops were administered--which I hate. Then they started boxing up food from the magic cupboard, the big cold foodbox and the kitchen drawers. During all this I noticed Softie crushing up a tiny white pill....which came from a small brown bottle. I am pretty sure the label read "kitty valium" and it came from Dr.R, but I didn't know what kitty valium was....but I do now.

Softie mixed the powder with some water and before I knew it, the mixture had been squirted down my throat. It didn't taste bad like the horrible meds from the big cold foodbox taste, but it wasn't very pleasant either.

Oddly, my feet stopped working properly and then I felt very woozy. Softie carried me around and it was most enjoyable. After a while I was having difficulty walking, so Softie kindly put me into the dreaded Pet-Taxi. I didn't even realize it. I curled up on the towel inside and stuck a paw out the door and waved to the old lady, who waved back. They proceded to box up more stuff and take it outside, then Softie took me outside and loaded me into the metal monster. I

t was the longest ride I have ever known. We must have been in the metal monster forever! Funny, I wasn't afraid of the metal monster this time. I didn't get sick and I didn't drool all over myself! Softie hooked up her iPod and the two of us sang a lot of songs on the way. She really cannot sing.

Eventually we arrived somewhere and I was freed from the dreaded Pet-Taxi. I'm still not sure where we are, but Softie and the British One keep telling me it is my new home. It has hardwood floors, massive windows and almost all our stuff inside. I set about familiarizing myself with this new place. I wandered from the kitchen to the dining room to the large lounge to something called a foyer, and back again. I studied the location of my litterbox and counted the paces from each room to the box. Then I did the same for my food dishes.

Then Softie located my blankie and sat down on the sofa, and I curled up in her lap, just like old times. I had a nice little nap, but then I saw the British One appear out of nowhere. I was puzzled and mystified. I had to find out where he had been.

There is an entire second floor to this house! I climbed up the stairs and discovered a bunch of rooms, another litterbox and a bathroom! I found our beddie-bye basket and dresser and more of our stuff! Amazing!

When the British One and Softie went to the beddiebye basket, they kindly put my little stepstool at the foot of the bed. I climbed up onto the bed and curled up between them, just like old times.

I wonder when we are going home?

What's Going On??

Lots of strange things happened today, and I don't like any of them.

The British One and Softie's friend Christian came over last night with a very large, noisy orange truck. Then he spent the night.

Bright and early this morning the three of them were up loading our belongings into the orange truck. Then more people came over and put stuff into the truck. Almost everything went into the truck except me! They also left behind Softie's office chair (which I sat on and wouldn't let anyone take away) and the chair in the lounge that I like to sleep on. The British One calls the chair a "Po-ang." Softie also left my favorite blankie draped over the Po-ang.

Now they have left me alone and I'm not sure what to do. The old lady came over a little while ago and gave me food, but I don't know where the British One and Softie are. They've been gone all day and it's getting late.

What if they don't love me anymore? What if they have left me behind? What if I never see them again?!

Who's going to clip my nappy dreads? Who will feed me? Who will let me sleep on top of them when the weather turns cold?

I wish I knew what is happening.

Just Too Many Boxes

The house has begun to echo.

The packing continues.

Where is all our stuff going?

Why are there only a few tins of food in my magic cupboard?

Too Much Upheavel

The British One has spent the entire day putting things into boxes. He has removed all the pictures from the walls and has taken down the shelving. I followed him around demanding to know what is going on, but it was fruitless.

When Softie got home she also began putting things into boxes. All the stuff from the shelves went into boxes. I sat on the kitchen floor behind her, watching. I thought if I sat there looking regal and fluffy she would not be able to resist letting me in on the secret of the boxes.....and I was right!

She swooped me up into her arms and carried me around--which I adore--and told me all about a new house. She says it will be our new house. She said it has big windows and lots of nooks for me to explore.

But what if I don't want a new house? What is wrong with my house? I don't see as well as I used to--how will I find my way around someplace new? What if I can't sun myself on the deck anymore?!

It's all quite worrying to a little handsome lad such as myself.

Suspicious Minds

It was a beautiful, brisk day and after a delicious breakfast of diced chicken from the big, cold foodbox I spent the morning sunning myself on the deck. I didn't even have to remind Softie to open the door!

I got suspicious, however, because as soon as I walked out the door the pair of them were busy cleaning and tidying the house. I had a feeling they'd be taking me out to visit the old lady again, and sure enough they did. They kept speaking of something called an "open house." I don't understand why they open up our house to strangers while they aren't even there! I don't understand why they don't leave me there to keep an eye on things. Who knows what strangers might do to our house when I'm not there to protect it!

So instead of protecting my house, Softie stuffed me into the horrible pet-taxi and the British One carried me several houses away to the old lady's house. Softie showed up in the metal monster a little while later. I hate the metal monster. Everytime I've ever been inside its belly I'm jostled around and end up being very sick. I don't even like to look at it when I'm in the garage, but it's good to hide beneath when I don't want to be found.

After I was let out of the pet-taxi at the old lady's house, I realized that the tiny human was there. The tiny human is somehow related to Softie, the British One and the old lady. He greeted me and I was surprised to find that he can speak a little Meow. Meow is not the easiest language to learn, but somehow this pint-sized human could hold a decent conversation with me. Odd.

The parents of the tiny human came by and everyone went outside. I sat in the window and watched them, and watched several fellow felines walking around with them. I recognized one of them--a cat called Kirk. Kirk has followed Softie to our house before. I don't think I like Kirk very much.

Several hours later I was unceremoniously stuffed back into the pet-taxi and carried home by the British One. It was all a bit much for me.

I need a lap.

Softie's Tears

Yesterday evening I took a snooze on Softie's lap and let her use the scissors on me. I was just too worn out to put up a fight, and besides, after she clipped and brushed me I felt very silky and slick, so it was worth the trouble she put me through. To top it off, she didn't administer my meds last night!

I happily curled up next to her in the beddie-bye basket and fell into a deep sleep. Sometime in the night, however, the cramps hit me. I tried to make it to my litterbox, I really did. Unfortunately I only managed to get as far as the bedroom door before I had a bout of violent diarrhea. I knew I would get into trouble for it, so I did what I had to do, which was hide behind the sofa in the lounge.

At 5 o'clock in the morning I heard the British One get up to go to the bathroom and I guess he must have stepped in my mess, because he started yelling for Softie. It would have been amusing to witness, I'm sure!

Softie got out of bed and together they cleaned up my little mistake. I swear I didn't mean to do it, I just can't hold it in like I used to. Neither of them yelled at me about it though, which was good.

But they both cried. And that made me feel worse than if they had yelled at me. I don't like seeing my humans cry.