Yesterday was my birthday, and it has made me very depressed.
I am not as spry and playful as I used to be, and my humans tell me that I have become very demanding in my old age.
I am not demanding because I am in "old age" but because it is the only way I can get my point across to my humans, who are incredibly dimwitted a lot of the time. I NEED to hound them loudly to get what I want, as I have realized that being nice doesn't get me very far sometimes.
But getting older has caused me some depression, and I did not touch my delicous diced chicken at all yesterday. I haven't touched it today either.
I'm just not hungry right now, and I hope this does not mean a visit to the not-so-evil hippie vet.
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