Hello again, its me, Lucy One White.
My Mama Steph uses writing words sometimes (aka Daily post/prompt). I Lucy don’t do that, cause I don’t like nobody bossing me around. However, as it turns out, I know a little something about some of this week’s words. These words are infect, thin, pedigree, slight, forest, and rebel.
Thin and slight. This is how I Lucy am now. I was once a woman of some substance, weighing almost 11 pounds. I had a flap that jiggled and if I ran into you, you knew it. Well, I’m much smaller now, under 6 pounds the last time I got weighed. My muscles are getting little, and I am not as strong as I used to be. I need a step to jump on the counters, and while I’m still very fast when I run, lots of times now I don’t run all the way up the stairs. I do this so my moms don’t feel bad that I am always faster than them. My little bones are easier to find now, my back is kind of bony. Mama Steph says its because I am old (my birthday is next month, and I will be 20, which is pretty old, that’s the same as 100 in people). She says I am turning into a little old lady, except for my big mouth.
Infect. I had one infection in my life that I know about. I got in a fight and had a bite. Mama Steph discovered it when she picked me up and stinky stuff comed out of my leg. She says it was an abscess. (she’s a people doctor, what does she know). Anyway, she cleaned it up, and put me on a kitten dose of people medicine and I got all better. I was glad it was Christmas eve and Dr. Lisa’s office was closed, because I hate going anywhere in the car.
My Aunt Susie had a real bad infection. She had FIV, which is the kitty aids virus. She had to take medicine for it, and she died young, at only about 12. Mama Steph was real confused when Susie’s cat doctor told her that Susie had FIV. She knew how people got people aids, and she knew that Susie didn’t do any of those things, like sex or drugs or transfusions. Cats get it from cat bites. I’m glad I only got an abscess from my cat bite. I mostly don’t like fighting.
Pedigree. There are fancy cats that have a pedigree, where they are a special kind of cat, and they know all their moms and dads and grammas and grandpas. I Lucy am not that kind of a cat. I don’t remember my cat mom, and I don’t know who my dad is either. Mama Steph doesn’t know. Its mysterious. They call me a DSH on my doctor sheet. It means Domestic Short Hair. But really, I am a purebred Lucy.
Forest. We have a little bit of a tree forest in our yard, and more of a long grass jungle, which I Lucy like to hunt in a little bit. I remember my days as a big jungle cat when I do that. My brother Jules said that he used to be a panther. Mama Steph’s blog friend Martha writes about smilodons sometimes, and it inspires me. I think I used to be one of those, and maybe I will do it again. Then I won’t be slight anymore.
Rebel. As I mentioned earlier, I don’t like anyone bossing me or telling me what to do. I am a cat, and we are all rebels. Don’t forget it, and I’ll tell you about more stuff next week. Goodbye.
Premature. I was premature in saying goodbye, because here’s this morning’s word. I’m going to tell my Moms something that Mark Twain said: Reports of my death are exaggerated. Its premature to worry about it. I am still here. And to quote one of Mama Steph’s favorites, Monty Python: “I’m not dead yet”. What’s for breakfast? Goodbye again, I’m hungry, and there’s fish to be eaten.