LIBBYPLOG : How We Spent Our Kwanza Vacation.

On Xmas Eve Day Mrs. Stillman was frantic. She took Memee, the cat (ugh), away and came back without him! Later we went for a ride up to Cornell Vet School. And there was Memee - in a space suit! No Kidding! It had this really big clear plastic cone kind of thing all around his head

I didn’t see any tubes so I really don’t know what good it did, but there he was in a space suit with a collar and a red space suit blanket. He kept one eye closed the whole time. I think he was winkin’ at me. He meowed all the way home. What a pest!!

When Mrs. Stillman put him on the floor so he could drink some milk, he went crazy, IN REVERSE! Yup, He backed up all over the house and bumped into things too.

Mrs. Stillman picked him up as soon as she could catch him! Then she cried for a few minutes. Then she stopped and held him and sang him a little song.

It went like this:

Oh my Memee,

Oh my Memee

Oh my Memee pussy cat,

Oh my Memee

You look funny
in your hat.

Oh my Memee

Poor my Memee

Oh my Memee pussy cat,

Oh my Memee

Please get better

Just like that!

Dogally, I thought the lyrics were a little repetitive, but Memee purred anyway.
We all slept on the living room floor for 5 days to be with Memee. After a while he got used to the space suit, But 4 times a day Mrs Stillman tortured him, poking drops into his eyes and stuffing pills down his throat. Kit (ugh) came over all the time to help.

I just laughed, ha ha, until I realized she was not picking me up anymore! I was being starved of attention due to some stupid extra special post-op cat care!

Normally, , when I occasionally need attention I don’t go poking my eye out. I just look up at Mrs. Stillman and remind her of my puppy mill days. I open my eyes real wide and say:

“Mommy, Wire Cage. Remember? My poor little feet. Outside in the freezin’ cold, Locked In a chicken coop. Poor little me, Mommy, freezin’ in a Wire Cage. Remember Mom?”

Then, she looks at me and says “Oh you poor thing,” and picks me up.

(These days, all I have to say is “Wire Cage” and that usually does it.)

But not that time! No way! Nada. Nuthin! I must have said “Wire Cage” a million times and all she said was, ”Now Libby, You have to be patient.“ Patient? Why should I be patient? I wasn’t sick. Memee was the one who was sick. Oh well, I suppose I have to get myself a space suit to get any attention around here.

And speaking of R*tten Fuckin’ Bastards (kids might be reading this), Romney is the stupidest most heartl*ss prick in the w*ole world almost. And I think, so are his kids. Nobody felt bad for the poor dog who was pooping in terror, up on the roof, at 70 miles an hour. They just said “Yuck.” Wow. That’s like having someone bleed to death in front of you and you saying. ”Yuck what a mess!”

My advice is to strap Romney and his whole family to the wings of his private jet and taking him for an exhilarating “campaign trip”. Ha ha, what a shitty mess that would be. Then we could hose ‘em off and stick some sense into their empty pampered heads. So tell me, who’s the non-human in that story, the dog or Romney?

And speaking of stupid, Now that Memee is all better, he wants to write a Klog! (That means Kitty Log). A Klog for Dog’s sake. He’s just a copycat. But I think he’s not creative enough. First of all, he never laughs. He just stares. Or he sleeps. Not that a good 20-hour nap isn’t good for you, but he naps for twenty-one hours! He is L-A -Z–Y!

Anyway, I told him I’d help him out for his first time so here’s his first Klog entry: