Holy heat wave Batman! Mom, Dad, and Ellie went to the beach fur their annual long weekend getaway. I’m not the weatherman, but I do know fur a fact they didn’t need to drive all the way to the beach to sweat their fur off. Despite Mom leaving the air conditioning on fur me, the heat index in the house furrom the solar-gain of the skylights certainly had me feeling like I was at the beach, too!
I wonder if I would even like the beach? Ellie suggested I tag along, but Mom thought cats weren’t allowed at the hotel room, and Dad quickly vetoed the idea because he wanted a few nights of sleep without me crying in his ear. In the words of Stephanie Tanner, “How rude!”
I imagine the beach to be some sort of purradise. Sunbathing without sitting on a windowsill, but rather laying on a flamingo print beach towel, basking in the hot summer sun. Staying hydrated is very important, and what better way than drinking straight furrom the world’s largest water bowl? Digging in the sand would be right up my alley; after all, I am a professional litter box digger. Making paw prints in the sand I would imagine is a must. How many paw prints can you make before the waves wash them away? Oh, and I can’t furrget people watching! Silently judging their choice of swimwear is a thing, right? Purrsonally, I would show up in my purrthday suit.
You know what, maybe I will take Ellie up on her beach invite next time. YOLO.