The vet.

I got put in a cage and went on a car ride.
That part was fine. And my mama said I was a very. good. boy.
Of course!
Then I went to the waiting room. There were cats and fish and dogs and people. I came out of the cage, because I like to greet people.
That part was fine.
Then I went into a little room with a pretty lady who said I was a very big boy. She said I weigh 8.4 pounds, and that I am more than double what I weighed last time. And that I'm pretty.
That part was fine.
Then we waited.
That part was fine.
Then the vet came in with the pretty lady. The vet was a lady, too. The vet kept talking to mama, and tried to talk to me, too, but I didn't say nothin' back because I was shy. She touched all of my parts of my leg, and when she got to the part that hurt, I meowed. I tried to be polite about it but you really shouldn't touch the owy parts.
Then she started looking at my ear.
That part was not fine.
Not fine at all.
I don't like people in my ear.
It finally ended and she took my temperature. Do you know what they do to do that? Doesn't that seem really, really WRONG?
Not fine. Not fine at all.
Then I got a shot, but it was in my back leg and I hardly felt it at all.
And the vet said I was a very. good. boy. And the pretty lady said I was a very. good. boy.
Then mama paid and I think that's stupid. If someone is going to touch the owy parts and then stick things where they don't belong you don't PAY them! And then we went to the car.
And it was NOT fine. I howled and cried. I had it up to here. So mama had to pet me and tell me how pretty I am before we could leave. Then we drove home. And I got lots of greenies.
And that part was fine.

I don't think I really want to go to the vet again very soon.
Human comment: he has a sprained shoulder, and a yeast infection in his ear. And the vet said to keep him quiet. The woman is clearly deluded.But he was a very good boy.

I hurted my foot.

I don't know how.
I hurted my foot.
I try to walk on three pawsies, but it's hard.
And my mama is worried, and she came home for lunch to make sure I'm okay.
Tomorrow I have to go to the vet.
It's really hard to play when you've hurted your foot.
But greenies make it better.

There are no beauty magazines for kitties

...and I am a beautiful boy.
But I have a problem, oh internets.
See, I have pretty white fur on my four paws.
It's very pretty.
But it gets really dirty. Not just on the bottom where my paws touch the floor (ahem! house cleaning!) but also on the top. I look dingy.
I don't want to be a fashion don't. How do I get my pawsies clean and white? (Believe it or not, my own baths aren't working, and I don't want to go in that stupid old sink again!)

Big! News!

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Originally uploaded by ppolarbear.

Now that I'm a big boy, I got a big boy litter box.

I had a very little litter box, the size of a piece of paper, but I was having "aim issues" (whatever that means) and the human got all upset about some rug that was on the back of the box. Whatever. I never liked that rug anyway.

My sister has a big girl litter box, but she really doesn't like it when I use it, and, well, girl germs=ew.

So now I have my very own big boy litter box. NO Girlz allowed! This is a picture of me checking it out to be sure it's all good and stuff.

I'm so happy.

But even while I'm happy, I'm sad for Whistle. He needs a big boy litter box, too.

My mother is cruel and evil

Originally uploaded by ppolarbear.

Just because I had black stuff all over my front paws and on my face and on my belly is no reason to stick me in a sink for a bath. Like I'm some kind of baby! I spent all afternoon getting that icky smell off of me. Mommy says I look beautiful and fluffy and clean now. Like I'm falling for that one.