Talk about mixed bags. I had such a day as I hope won't be repeated for awhile. Parts were wonderful put I paid for it.
My human grandmother intones "laughter is closest to tears," but she's a Swede and they think like that.
What happened? Much of the usual stuff: intimidating Adric the Cat into hiding under the bed (funny how he always manages to sneak out the other side when I am not looking), savaging my toy Squirrelly, and a session with the Young Artists who came to work on sculptures again. I inspired them, I must say. Next week we are painting so I must do some tail flexing exercises to prepare - I hear my tail has a brushy quality.
Then the day turned grim. My Person asked me if I wanted to go in the car. Of course I bounded into the open door, knowing this way lies dog parks, trips to Auntie VeeCee's, trips to the Pet Food Store....but not so in this case. This way led to the Vet. I was shot twice with huge needles and they wickedly drew blood from my furiously flailing leg. And they didn't give me a treat! It was ghastly.
I did get a walk in the snow after and felt a little better. But next time my Person holds the car door open, I will think twice. Maybe!
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