Holy Catnip, Batman, what sort of monsters are holding us captive here at Camp Shorewood?!
For months now, Deer and Macks have lulled us into a false sense of security. Sure, yeah, they hauled Washie off to a scary place called the Emergency Hospital early on but - as we all know - he certainly deserved it being such a sassy brother. But, me?! What the @(#*!@#?
On Wednesday afternoon, Washie and I were minding our own sweet feline business, aka power napping when, without any warning or provocation, these two human beasties abruptly woke us up and stuffed us into these portable prison cells.
Then, we had to endure a car ride. I know, I know, it was only 5 minutes, but I think I'm allowed to moan and mew a bit here.
Hang on to yourselves, now - it gets worse.
When the car stopped, we were at
THE VET for what Deer and Macks tried to innocently refer to as our annual check up.
Momma, Daddy...it was awful. The doctor squeezed my tummy, looked into my eyes and ears, gave me a shot and - if all this wasn't enough - she put me on a scale. What could she possibly mean when she said "Madison could do well with losing a pound or two." Oh please, I've worked very hard to develop my belly and damn proud of it!
The Vet didn't even bother to give me a cat treat for my troubles. What is the matter with the world today?