Retrieving the mail is a team effort in our household, but Mom is always the one sifting through determining what needs to be addressed (pun intended) and what is deemed as junk mail. Most mail is fur Mom and Dad, occasionally fur Ellie. I almost always nevfurr receive mail; that is, until yesterday.
Mom excitedly called fur me, in her piercing cat mom voice of course; “Otis Joe! Come ‘mere handsome pants! You have mail!” With Valentine’s Day in a few short days I thought fur sure it was a letter furrom a secret admirer. Then again who could possibly love me more than Mom? I don’t think I can even bare the thought of someone kissing on me more then she does. Yuck! My next thought was it definitely had to be furrom someone in my fan club. I have quite the following evfurry week!
It tunrs out, I was wrong on all counts. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a letter furrom the Vet’s office reminding me its time fur a checkup. Are you kitten me right meow?! What the fluff Mom?! This definitely should have entered the junk mail pile. Last year I took three too many trips to the vet’s office (that accounts fur all of my appointments in 2021), and I am putting my paw down on evfurr going there again.
Yes I know I’m still doing my chomping thing. As far as Mom is concerned we’ll chalk it up to a habit that can’t be broken. Mom’s newest concern is the fur disappearing furrom my belly. Dad told her it’s just me getting old. Of course Mom doesn’t take his medical advice and has Googled this and said it could be a hormonal imbalance. I swear I’m feline fine, Ma! So who knows what the future holds fur me. Mom furreaks out if I have a whisker out of place.
Is there a do-not mail list I can sign up fur?