I've had a pretty exciting week.
I went on my first family vacation. Can you believe, in 7 years, this is the first time we've traveled together?
I can only assume now that every time People and Dog leave the house, this is what they do without me. Believe me, they will suffer the consequences next time they go anywhere, anywhere at all, without me.
The problem, though, with traveling is the travel.
Anyone who says "it's about the journey" is full of sticky white bird-dooky. This part sucks.
Even Dog hates the journey. And she hardly hates anything. Person went on and on about how good she was for not throwing up the whole time.
Hey look at me, I'm not throwing up either.
But it was worth it, once we got there. After a ritual hide-in-the-closet stint (mandatory for cats in any new setting...under beds, basements, between floors, cupboards, any will do) I settled right in.
I followed Dog on a walk down a strange, damp path to a place like I've only dreamed of...who knew that The Largest Litterbox on the Face of the Earth would smell and sound just like this? Not me.
The minute my paws touched the sand, I used it, of course. Clean, dry sand...why digging a hole in this is like heaven. Amazing stuff, this litterbox. I can see why the whole family would travel to this place, just for me.
The view from inside was not too bad either.
There were strange things also enjoying the vast litterbox. These were some bizarre looking chickadees, I tell you.
Lap-time is also necessary even when away from home.