It all began when the humans up and left. You know the signs that lead up to it (clothes carrying boxes- they call em suitcases, etc.), so I knew it was going to be bad. But they were gone for a long time too. That meant that scary strangers came in to feed us on occasion. Fuzzball Phoebe didn't mind the attention, but I did. I spent the better part of a week under the bed. HOW COULD THEY LEAVE US?!?!?!?!?
But THEN, it got worse, I tell you. Boxes were set up, and things that Phoebs and I took for granted, were slowly disappearing. THEN, there was the trip itself. I don't mind riding in cars so much, but Fuzzbutt hates it. She cried the entire trip (which was about five minutes- not even a cat napping moment, really). But to sum it all up, we moved. I haven't been back to our blessed yard since that car trip. I guess this means we're stuck here.
THERE'S a DOG!
A little white fuzzy dog comes to visit us on occasion. She seems harmless, about the size of me, actually. But she's still a viscious canine, and I'm dreadfully scared of her, the humans, and all the other scary sounds that resonate in this house. One nice thing is, we have a huge porch that we can sit on. It gives us a delightful view of many a winged creature. I find the bird songs so alluring, and phoebe finds the flying insects so appetizing. So I guess the move can't be all that bad.
Anyway, I realize I've missed a lot over the last fortnight or longer. But I thought I would relay my melodramatic sob story (and it IS one) to all of my lovely friends here.
And how are you?