I didn't look this bad, but I sure felt like it.
I’m feeling better now. I even played catch with mommy this morning. I wanted to show you the Get Well Card mommy’s ex-husband Grant sent me. That was very nice of him. Inside it said: “Here are some you may want to add to the list– HOPE and HUGS.” He also sent a personal message to me, but it is … ah… personal.
I wish I had met him. He and mommy are still friends and he seems a really cool guy.
Mommy is still feeding me that Prescription Diet AD stuff. It’s better than that CD stuff, but not much. So is she’s going to make me eat it, I’m going to make her hand feed it to me. For a while I would just lick it off her fingers, so she had to stay with me the whole time. I still make her serve it to me on her fingers, but after I lick it off, I will eat a mouthfull or two off the plate. I do that because mommy can’t stay hunched over the whole time, so this way she gets to stand up straight between offerings.
Since she is also so concerned about me peeing and pooping, I do it in the litter box only when she is standing over me. That way she can tell that it is from me and not brother Pacey Jack or sister Danny Girl. I do it to relieve her concern since she has been stressing out completely. And for this she calls me a Divo. I just feel I deserve the extra attention if I’m going to be forced to eat that unappetizing food. And do my business in litter boxes.
This is Mischief Kirk… meowing off…
