Today was dull. I doubt I’ll be able to say the same tomorrow. Meeko’s been really stuffed up, to the point that he’s having trouble breathing. My dad has enlisted me to carry him into the vet’s office tomorrow. I am not looking forward to it. I have a bad temper but it’s nothing when compared to Meeko’s when we take him out of the house. It’s like he’s not even a cat anymore. Our front door is a portal that transforms my sweet, cuddly kitty into a friggin’ Tasmanian Devil. I must remember to wear sleeves... several layers and sleeves.
He’s going to be a nightmare after too. He holds a grudge. Which I suspect is another reason why my dad wants ME to be the one to carry him. I’m clearly the favourite and my dad is jealous of that. He wants Meeko mad at me so he can usurp my place! Devious! Underhandedness! Schemes! The cat’s not going to want to be near me for a while after we get home...
Out of interest though, do they make kitty strait jackets? Cause he’s not gonna go easy.
If I don’t write tomorrow, it’s because he chewed off my arms. Wish me luck because I’m rather attached to my arms. In every sense of the word attached.