Let me start by saying that my disdain for all the ooey-gooey love that goes on every year on February 14 has nothing do do with the fact that I was neutered when I was 4 months old. Yes, I still have scars (literally) from that tragic experience. And yes, that heathen act of butchery left me feeling empty. But I digress.
I'll get right to it. Today is my birthday. That's right, exactly two years ago today, I curled my tail into its first little cinnamon bun. But no one ever remembers. The focus is always love, love, love. How about showing ME a little love?
At least I have someone here to party with me. Noah's too young to know what Valentine's Day is, and his young mind is ripe for me to teach him the true meaning of February 14.
I'm 14 years old today (that's 2 years old in people years), and it's not too late to swing by Petsmart and pick me up a little somethin-somethin. If you can't make it to Petsmart, "belated birthday steak" is a phrase that gives me a warm feeling inside. In fact, I'll gladly accept just about any present you send my way.
Just don't send any cats.