I am now at Lay-dee's house and I'm not even mad about it. In the last week, I have been drugged by the vet and exhibited behavior I am not proud of. And I have been traumatized by a terrible fire alarm event at the apartment building where Maddie and I live. I was reduced to a trembling, furry, heap of fright by the sirens and lights and commotion.
After those two unsettling events, I have now come to realize that being at Lay-dee's house is only the 3rd worst thing that could happen to me. Maddie is with me on this trip, which makes me happy and a bit more relaxed, of course.
But...I had not been in Lay-dee's house 20 seconds when I had to hiss at one of those dang hooligans. He was at the top of the stairs trying to come down to greet Lay-dee. He didn't realize I was coming up the stairs to survey my accommodations. This hooligan did not appear to be particularly frightened by me which I found to be a bit disrespectful.
When I arrived in my room I found that Lay-dee had made her usual efforts to provide me with unique forts, sneaky hidey holes and some softy soft blankets spread out on my favorite window viewing perches.
As a southern passive-aggressive mama would say, "Bless her heart."
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