Alas poor Busy Kitty, I knew you well

I'm trying to catch up on the updates, but unfortunately the old guy travels alot and I don't know how to use the computer. This is all dictated to the old guy who types it for me.

I'm finally in my new "home". However, it's not a home, it's a cage in a garage. I've been here long enough to have several conversations with the old guy. His name is Phil and he seems nice enough. Anyway, after we got back from the vet, Phil put me in the cage in the garage. He told me I'll only be in the cage until he "tames" me and turns me into a house cat. Bad news for me . . . this could be a long time.

In the cage is a water bowl with water storage, a food dish with two food compartments, my cat bed that was brought down from San Francisco, a box with dirt in it and my Busy Kitty. I finally figured out what the box with dirt was for . . . but it still doubles as a comfortable bed.

My first day in the cage didn't go well. Phil was afraid to touch me because I growled at him. I refused to sleep in my bed. But the food isn't bad. They serve wet food here, and a lot of it, and I love wet food. When Phil left me he turned out the garage lights. I figured it was night which is my favorite time to play. The only play toy in the cage was my Busy Kitty. A Busy Kitty is just a strip of corrugated cardboard to be used as a scratcher. I saw it as a way to express my extreme displeasure. So, over the course of the night i destroyed it. I chewed it, I clawed it, I ripped it, I tore it in two, then four, then eight, then . . . well, I really can't count that high because the pieces were so small. Then I emptied the box with dirt, and threw as much of the Busy Kitts I could find into the box. When I heard Phil coming down the next morning, I jumped in the box and met him with my best cat frown. I don't think he was happy. That day he bought me a new kind of busy kitty made out of rope wound around wood. He says it's indestructable . . . well see about that.