I am always happy to see Grandma’s cat, Charlie, come down to visit. He loses his lunch (or breakfast or supper) more often than I do. Sorry, Charlie!

Itchy Belly?

Charlie seems to be a really cool cat, but he must have some underlying “issues.” He barbers his stomach. Grandma finds tufts of black fur all over her house. He has been to the vet for analysis, but there seems to be no physical illness or other detectable cause. Of course, he develops huge furballs! Sorry, Charlie!

Charlie, Go Home!

After Mom has to clean up one of his (how shall I say it politely?) “outputs,” she is happy to send him home again. He seems to strike at the most inconvenient times. For instance, Mom finally gets home, settles in on her laptop, and starts to read her email. What’s that sound she hears? Oh, no! Either Charlie or I have been “up to no good,” and Mom has to get up to clean up. I am always relieved when it is not MY fault Mom is annoyed.

I’m Trying to Be Sorry, Charlie!

It’s time for Mom to send you home now. Poor boy!

Something fishy is going on at the Feline Funny Farm. One of our oldest residents has been missing since Tuesday. Revelly (aka Whacky Tail) has made several trips in the cat carrier over the last week. She returned to the Farm last Thursday and Saturday, but since Mom  absconded with her Tuesday, we have not seen her.

There is a rumor circulating that she is in the hospital. I heard Mom saying stuff to Dad about PO-TASS-SEE-UM (is that anything like “no-see-ums”?) being too high. This afternoon Mom seemed to be having a long telephone conversation with someone about Revelly’s appetite, a newly detected heart arrhythmia, and the dreaded FLUIDS.

Please bring our furpal back soon, I need someone to harass, and Revelly growls and swats magnificently.

I never believed such an insult was possible, especially from my very own mom. I checked to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but they weren’t. Mom misspelled my name on the 2015 Feline Funny Farm calendar.

Phooey on her! Of all the people in our family, SHE should know I am Gobblin’ Goopuss. Note the double s at the end of my name. She left one off and immortalized the error on that calendar. I am insulted and offended!

Today a suspicious person visited our house. He came downstairs (where we live) and made weird noises in the room next to ours. Mom and Dad were talking about a plumber (whatever that is) and a new bathroom faucet. After 90 minutes or so the man went upstairs, but I could still hear his voice for a while.

I am not fond of strangers. After this one was gone and Mom was about to go to work, she started doing one of her usual “cat counts.” She found everyone but me. I thought I had found the perfect hiding place: cozy, dark, and out of sight. Suddenly the door to my hiding place slammed shut. I was trapped!

Mom has been trying to get me to the vet for a while now, because I am more than a year overdue for shots. I am very talented at avoiding capture, and I am strong. Today, however, my desire for privacy defeated me.

Mom told Dad she did not want to be late for work, but just had to take this opportunity to get me in for vaccinations. I complained, but not too loudly. I hid under the bedding in the carrier. Nothing changed Mom’s mind.

We arrived at the veterinary hospital. Mom and I were taken to a room. It seemed like forever before I was allowed out. Then I encountered another stranger: Dr. R. Mom apparently knows her well. Dr. R. poked me in the sides, listened to my heart, and tried to look in my mouth. I squirmed and struggled. Dr. R. took me into another room. I was stabbed several times. My nails were clipped. Finally, Dr. R. took me back to Mom and told her to call Friday for the “results.”

Mom is lucky I don’t hold a grudge. Besides, most of the time she treats me well, I know she loves me.