Apparently, there's a storm heading our way. All mom and dad are talking about is this hurricane thing that's coming. It's supposed to be far enough away from us, so that all we'll get is maybe some wind and lots of rain, but they're starting to set some things in a pile, as if they're getting ready to go on a trip. Among these things is my carrier, something I absolutely HATE being put in! I don't mind the riding, but I do not like being stuck in that thing.
When we first moved down here last year from Massachusetts I had to ride in that ridiculous thing, but after a while dad let me out. I was nervous at first, but before long I relaxed a little, and started checking out different spots in dad's truck, my favorite being right on his lap. Mom and dad knew it wasn't safe for me to be out of that carrier, but it made the long trip so much more tolerable, especially for an old fart like me. I never thought I'd be able to master the art of peeing in my litterbox... in a moving vehicle!! Other than a little swaying, I managed, though. Every now and then they'd stop off the highway for a pee break, and they'd hook this silly harness and leash on me. I'd check out bushes and stuff, but hated wearing that stupid thing. Mostly I just plopped down right on the pavement, refusing to move. I guess they got fed up after a while, and just carried me.
Dad says he needs to get on now to check the weather, so I'm gonna grab a quick snack, then go see if mom wants to talk. I can hear her snoring in their bedroom, so this is a perfect time to strike up a conversation.