Why’s everybody always picking on me? Haven’t I been a good kitty, putting up with the eye drops and the chicken slop and minding my own business? Apparently not good enough: I was sleeping too much and eating too little.

Two days ago, Mom stuffed me into a plastic box and hauled me out of the house. She took me to the same place that the Birmingham police did when they found me, skinny and flea-ridden, nearly two and one-half years ago. Once there Dr. C. poked and prodded me and pried open my mouth. I was taken away, x-rayed, stabbed (more than once), and put in a cage with this long plastic tube attached to my front leg. Then I realized: Mom is lost!

I waited a long time, wondering what had happened to Mom and why she left me here. Finally, I found her. There she was at the door of my cage, talking to me and petting me. Then I lost her again. She keeps coming back once in a while, but she does not stay “found” or take me home.

I promise to be a good kitty! Please rescue me!

Mom is still amazed at how daring I am becoming. She took some photos of me in her bedroom this morning when I came in to join Googlie, Jou Jou B, Jolie, and Jenise, and made myself at home in the little “cave bed.” We cats love to give our humans surprises!

I am squinting because Mom is still putting that dumb drop in my right eye twice a day.

When Mom got home from work this afternoon, she and Grandma took my Aunt Toshi Purrs-a-Lot to the dreaded V-E-T, Toshi did not eat or move from one particular spot in the living room all day, and she seemed a bit congested. The vet prescribed azithromycin liquid for her. Mom got some for Patch, who is also congested. Good luck getting any of that stuff into Patch! Patch was too smart to eat that “doctored up” food this evening. I don’t think Toshi appreciated the surprises she got today.

For some reason that I cannot comprehend, Mom seems to be picking on me lately. Two weeks ago she hauled me all over creation. I tried to tell her I was sick to my stomach, but she just kept driving. Finally, I just SHOWED her (from both ends) how she was making me feel. After all that wandering we ended up–where else?–at a veterinary hospital. I got drops in the eyes, had bright lights shined at me, was shaved on the belly, got x-rayed and ultra-sounded, and was forced to donate my blood. Lucky for me, Mom eventually came back and took me home.

I thought my ordeal was over, but NO! Mom started putting a drop in my right eye twice every day. About a week later, she started giving me this yechy “chicken-flavored” liquid twice a day, too. I have tried to endure all this like the AWESOME kitty that I am. I kept on hoping it would stop, and we could get back to normal.

No such luck! Today Mom jammed me in a carrier again, a bigger one this time, but a carrier nonetheless. Off in the car we went. I politely complained. I became fairly insistent. Mom did not listen, so I had to demonstrate my unhappiness visibly…just like before. Again we arrived at this special veterinary hospital–me all messy and stinky–so the ophthalmologist could repeat her examinations of my eyes. I heard her tell Mom that the surface of my right eye looked much better, and that the inflammation in the back of my eyes had been reduced in some areas. I thought this was good news until she said she wanted to see me once more in a week or two. ANOTHER trip to dread! If my eyes are still inflamed they are considering taking some fluid from my eye(s)…an OPERATION!!! Please, Mom, no more!

When Mom first adopted me in January 2013, she tried really hard to get me integrated with the other family felines. I demonstrated clearly–to her and to the other cats–that I was not about to cooperate. For the past year and a half I have chosen to live by myself in the kitchen and bathroom. I have two of my own beds, my own dishes, and my own litterbox.

After a while, I decided that it might be a good idea to check out the food bowls that the other cats were using to see if they had any perks that I was lacking. On occasion I would howl at the door until Mom or Dad would let me in. If no other cat was in the immediate vicinity, I would enter, check out the bowls (and munch a bit if there was something good), and howl again to be let out. Mom really tried to talk me into exploring and sticking around, but I did not feel like doing that…until a couple weeks ago.

It was a Sunday afternoon, August 24, and Dad was at work. I howled to come in and soon wanted to leave. Mom talked to me, and called me to come over. I don’t know why I changed my mind, but I decided to stay and have a look around. Mom was really surprised to find me in the window where Purrin’Dot used to hide every time the vacuum came out. I walked around on Dad’s desk and Mom’s desk, and even sat for a while on Mom’s lap. I could tell she was amazed. When Dad got home, she told him about my exploits. He did not seem to believe her.

Over the course of the next couple weeks Dad has had ample opportunity to witness my remarkable transformation from loner to (mostly) peaceful co-exister. I am still spending nights by myself (Dad doesn’t trust me), but much of the day and evening with my (human and feline) family. I kind of like it in here; I have a wider choice of napping spots and more opportunities to sit on Mom’s lap.