Hi, there! I’m Tipper Allen, and guess what? It’s Momma’s birthday! She says everybody thinks she’s 70, but she’s really 18. She must be counting in cat years or sompin.
Chickie told you how I snuck out the front door and ran around the house and came in the back door. Well, I brought some friends with me. Not really friends.
Momma was petting me and she saw fleas on me! She ordered some flea medicine, and I was glad when it came. I don’t like having fleas, and I don’t like Momma calling me Fleabag.
I’m a good boy, so I shared my fleas with Chickie, so she had to have the flea drops, too.
I’m not a Fleabag anymore.
I’ve been scratching at the woodwork, so Momma clipped my claws. They feel a lot better, now, and I don’t get stuck on the carpet.
#4 Hooman Sister is still coming to spend nights with Momma. One day, Momma said, “I found your hairbob on the floor.” #4 Hooman Sister took it and dropped it and said, “Ewww, it’s wet!” Momma said, “You just took a shower, and it fell out of your wet hair.” And #4 Hooman Sister said, “I haven’t worn that for a couple of days.”
Since #4 Hooman Sister didn’t seem to want it, I took it back and went on playing wif it. She said I could keep it.
Momma likes to take pictures of us, so I decided to pose pretty for her one day.
Chickie has been busy, too, but I’ll let her tell you about that next week.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: What’s the best toy you ever stole?