Mom is sad. She says that it is because of her sick kitty. Many people probably think that “kitty” would be me because I’m technically still a kitten. Mom calls me Truff-ley or Truffley-Butt but she kisses me and tells me that I’m a wonderful healthy 9-lb bundle of love. I make Mom and Dad play my games of fetch, clean the litter and hiding “under the dishwasher” (Mom sings this to the tune of “Under the Boardwalk”. I’m starting to learn to talk real good. I “mer–rp” when I enter a room and if you don’t pay attention to me I “ME-OW-OW-OW” real good. I also like to talk to the birdies. But my sister Mooshie is sick. She doesn’t want to play with me. Mom and Dad yell at me if I try to help her in the litter box. Mom tries to give Mooshie this great new food and Mom locks me in the bathroom. I want to gobble it but Mooshie eats very slow.
Mooshie can’t use the litter box very good. She grunts and yowls in pain and it scares me. Mom doesn’t like cleaning messes on the floor. Mom and Dad took her to the vet but she came home. She is little and skinny and has to eat special food and take pills. She just wants to sleep. I like her new diet though – Duck and Green Peas is good stuff! Mom says I am getting fat. I look at mom and tell her that she just needs to play with me more. I want Mooshie to get better so she can play with me again. And I don’t like Mom and Dad being worried about Mooshie.