A special message from Buddy:
There is treason in the air, dear readers! I can smell it, just as surely as I can smell an open tin of catnip from three rooms away.
There has been increased laundry activity, hushed talk of a place called North Carolina, and the suspiciously early decommissioning of the Christmas tree.
My food has been inventoried and a portion of it set aside. I am not very good at math, but it appears to be at least four or fivedays’ worth of perfect portions wet food in addition to kibble.
Most distressing of all, Big Buddy has changed into the same shirt three nights in a row: The very shirt he leaves on the bed when he goes away, believing his scent will comfort me. (Perhaps it does for less sophisticated creatures like dogs. Oh, to be so simple-minded!)
I know based on past experience that someone will enter my realm daily to feed me and give me fresh water. I also know it’s likely going to be the nice lady who used to play with me after feeding me…until I attacked her the last time she was my cat sitter.
It seemed like the right move at the time, but I regret it now. She will probably feed me and run out. 😦
What I’d like to know is: What did I do to deserve this betrayal? Shouldn’t I go with Big Buddy to this mysterious place called the Outer Banks? And what makes the Outer Banks so special, anyway? The low interest rates? The free checking accounts? A cool vault with one of those big, heavy doors you see in movies?
I guess it’s not all bad. I’ve only been sleeping 13 hours a night lately, so some down time will allow me to catch up on my beauty rest.
Also, the entire place could do with a thorough scent-marking, and not having a human around means there won’t be any complaining about it.
But who will I sleep on? Who will give me snacks when I meow for them? Who will tell me I’m a good boy and scratch my head?