Dear Diary,
Geez, it’s been a while hasn’t it? Blame it on my human secretary who couldn’t get her electronics to function properly, something that would never happen in a parallel cat universe where felines ruled supreme i.e. where we actually made proper economic and political decisions to our advantage. We already rule the current dimension as it is, even though the humans have ceased to venerate us with sacred oils and burnt offerings anymore. Sigh, those were the good old days.
April is also my birth month, but at my age, I don’t bother with birthdays anymore. Anything over 15 human years (HY) old should be deemed illegal to celebrate in public. My passport and vaccination booklet knows the truth, so let the rest of the world guess. Needless to say, I will be hitting 20 HY the same year Mom hits 60… oops, I let the dog out of the bag on that one.
So, how has life been you might ask? Well, my fur finally grew back after that disastrous winter haircut Mom thought necessary. It was a bloody cold winter, let me tell you, and I made good use of the fireplace and the blankets this season. For some reason we had an upside-down Christmas tree for the holidays (yup, that’s how long I haven’t written you), and it was a real killjoy. I couldn’t reach any of the baubles to whack around, but then again, neither could the others, so Mom did not acquire any additional grey hairs on our account.
Speaking of outsiders, I have a new S.F. (oh come on, of course we seniors are allowed to have significant felines, screw the age gaps!). His name is Cheddar and as you can see, he is an orange Garfielder. Mom calls him the One-Brain-Cell Boy because he can be a little dorky at times, to the point where I too lose my patience. But he is always attentive, polite, a proper gentleman, and kind. He has never hissed at me, gives me nose kisses, and will let me choose the side of the sofa first. It took forever for him to feel at home with us, well, with Mom at least, but he comes in every night now to share the sofa with me and leaves in the morning to have breakfast with the others. He is the strong silent type who doesn’t like to be alone. The only time he actually uses his voice is when he is in distress, pretty much like me, so we we get along just fine. The boy doesn’t understand German, he stares blankly when spoken to in English but doesn’t react to Portuguese either. When Mom speaks to him in Tagalog that one brain cell of his just evaporates and he curls up and goes to sleep instead.
As I am getting along in my golden years, the number of useful teeth has diminished significantly, which makes eating chunky food a bit of a challenge. It’s not that I’m picky about flavours, well, yes, I am actually (nothing that hops or goes baaaa lands on my plate, only swimmers or something with wings, mooooo is neutral territory), but let’s stay focused here and talk about my culinary matters. Mom buys me some really delicious food but every once in a while she goes berserk and purchases the supermarket house brands that are only chunky, and I only ended up slurping the sauce and leaving the rest. Cheddar doesn’t understand wet food, so the rest off the gang cleans it up when they march in, especially Warblels and Xico. Then she had a lightbulb moment and decided to blend my food for me. Best thing ever! Now I just drink my food and am done in seconds. Speaking of which, since I can’t chew the regular kitty treats as well as I used to either, I opted for different snacks, such as Mom’s homemade greek yoghurt and a dollop of margarine. On occasion I love to help myself but that just lands me outdoors for extended periods, so I finally trained the human to give me my treats when I shout at her if self-service is not an option. Oh, and side note for all other felines out there reading this, oat milk is disgusting, both the store bought and homemade kind.
It’s been a long winter here in Portugal with endless rain, absolutely revolting for exploring outdoors. But I did get a little stir crazy so I braved the winds from the time to time, just to get some fresh air, but that was not one of my best managerial decisions. I almost got blown away and turned into a flying squirrel! The good news is, Spring has finally arrived and the long hours of sunshine is welcome by all and sundry. This is likely to be a short Spring though and we will jump right into Summer at the rate the temperatures are rising.
Oh, this was supposed to be about my Adoptiversary right? Apologies for the roundabout prologue, but I got carried away with the stories after such a long time. In any case, let me just say that I am glad to be as far away as possible from the Berlin Animal Shelter possible. It’s been an adventurous six years with Mom and I love my life here. Here’s to the years ahead!
Meowingly yours,
Cherry
FrogDiva Thoughts 