
Dear Diary,
I’m baaack! Guess who returned from the islands feeling refreshed and renewed? This cat right here.
I’m still going through some vacation withdrawals, so bear with me if I occassionally lapse into a Hawaiian chant or get up to do the hula.
Actually, I’m more of a Tahitian dancer myself… I’m all about the hips.
I had grand plans to spend last Friday recovering from my vacation, haha, but alas, I was thwarted. My two assistants (damn them) conspired against me.
OK, I’m being dramatic. (What? Me, dramatic?) It was time for my annual checkup and, purr usual, it was a whole Jason Bourne-caliber situation to get me there because my two assistants know that as much as I love taking care of this body, I hate taking it to the vet. So, they deceived me under the guise of “going to Nordstrom.” I happily entered my cat carrier thinking that I was going to be able to pick up some Burberry or Prada, but then we pulled up to the Mill Valley Cat Clinic instead…



See, now, I knew I should have gotten that toy shark pincer claw thingy when I saw it at the Monterey Bay Aquarium a couple weeks ago because I could really use longer arms right now. I move around like a seal out of water! Turning over in bed takes me 10 minutes (only slightly exaggerating), and this is all to say that I can barely move right now, and reaching for things, like the light switch beside my bed, takes superhuman effort. 






















P.S. OK, WOW!