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So, my mom started packing to leave for someplace. I didn't know where, and the last time she did it she left me with Michelle for almost a whole week. I thought I would DIE. This time, though, she got out my cat carrier and packed MY things, too, like some of my jingle balls and mousies, and my food and even the evil squirt bottle she shoots me with when I'm bad. What was going on?
I found out the next morning, when she shoved me in my carrier and hauled me in the car for HOURS. She says we're now in Michigan. All I know is, we're in a big house with wood floors and stairs and that DOG. Thankfully, mom and I are in a room by ourselves, with all my stuff, and she keeps the door shut so the dog stays out. It's nice.
The dog is just a puppy, and he thinks I'm a toy. He barks at me and pounces on me. I puff up and hiss and even swat at him, but that just makes him more excited. What gives? Those moves are supposed to work, guaranteed!
I can't wait to go back home to my house, where it's just me and mom and Michelle. That'll be nice.
It's been a few weeks since I last killed a bug, but that's 'cause it's December, and mom says there aren't as many bugs in December. On the other hand, I've killed lots of ornaments and wrapping paper! Some of the presents have to be up high so I won't kill them, though I don't know why. Mom doesn't seem to like it when I kill presents as much as when I bring her crickets, or kill the spiders she's so afraid of.
My mom is so weird.
She says we're going on a trip soon, to someplace hours away, to visit her family and that awful cocker spaniel puppy of theirs. I've never left Cincinnati before! She bought me a harness and leash and makes me wear it sometimes so I'll "get used to it." Psh, like I can get used to something restrictive like that! I don't know why she's torturing me like this. I hope the trip doesn't happen. Hmph.
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