We had a stressful week. Mom and Dad's godchildren (11-year-old boy-girl twins) and their parents were visiting for eight days. Aslan spent the better part of the week under Mom and Dad's bed. I would sometimes venture downstairs to investigate the table for snacks that were left unattended and get the occasional "good boy" treat.
Company left on Sunday morning. Everything seemed cool. Then suddenly we were getting scooped up and put in a crate and taken to the car (gasp — outside! — we never go outside, and on the hottest day of the year at that). We were taken to a mobile pet clinic for our annual shots. Not cool at all. But we were good boys. I meowed a lot. Aslan was in a state of defeat after being chased around the house until finally giving up.
When we came home Aslan went back under the bed. I went under the couch. Mom and Dad left to get food and give us space. We'll forgive them as seen as they bring out food again. That's how things work in our house.
I've heard talk of kittens. I don't know where that will go. We'll see…