As you can see from the pics, we’re on the move again. I’m losing track. It’s only been 12 months since the last move, although the one before, we lived in the same house for five years.
I’ve seen the inside of a lot of houses, and on special occasions, Mum and Dad have let me out to explore the exterior. On other occasions, I’ve nudged the door, found it ajar, and made a break for it, running free through the paddock, under the trees, checking out the foliage and jungle.
I’m a very well travelled cat. I flew from Sydney to Adelaide (please don’t ask me to repeat THAT experience again – cats aren’t meant to fly, and dad, put a towel in the cage – how would you like it if you were stuck in a box inside a big white bird thing for a couple of hours. The trip back from Adelaide in the car was a bit more civilized but much longer, but I didn’t care so much because I spent most of the trip buzzing out on those little tablets that mum got from the vet. At about 3 am, the drugs would wear off and I would go on a rampage in whichever strange hotel room we’d ended up in, jumping up on benches, knocking things down, and driving mum and dad crazy.
Apparently this car trip will be much shorter. About half an hour. I suppose I can handle that. But I do have to be vocal about it. Have to tell mum that she’s not about to take me to the vet again!
