Mom said just this once I could write. She was going to do it herself, but she’s a little occupied right now cleaning the house. Part of that is my fault; I can’t stop myself from rolling in the dead grass and leaves and dirt in the backyard and naturally a lot of the little bits get stuck in my fur even though I shake the best I can. When mom’s home, she won’t let me back in the house until she brushes me off. Outside. Dad usually doesn’t notice or doesn’t care and just lets me in.
On the weekend my dad told mom I had superpowers. I was lounging on the deck out of the wind and suddenly it occurred to me that dad was sneaking cheese out of the fridge. When he turned from the counter with the cheese in his hand, he noticed me with my nose pressed against the glass on the wrong side of the door. He was impressed. Mom said it had to do with my amazing old factory senses. Superpowers sounds better.
Which brings me to the other reason my mom’s cleaning the house. Mom’s old factory isn’t as amazing as it used to be, I have to say; if it was up to snuff, she would have noticed that Catie had a piece of poop stuck to her bum when she came in from outside an hour ago. Catie’s had her bottom washed and mom’s running around the house with a spritz bottle and a scrub cloth wherever she thinks Catie’s been sitting or lying down. I’m betting mom’s rethinking all the fuss over a bit of yard grit now.
But despite the added work, she’s promised us an extra treat or two or three. It’s April 13th and officially three months since Catie’s surgery and I just know we’re gonna celebrate as soon as she’s done.