Back to work

One day at home to heal my foot had to be enough. So today I braved it, and went to work. Limping.. But still..
The day went OK, and I did good as far as walking. Had some really cute animals at work today. A 9 week old Pomeranian puppy, but very sick. We tested him for liver values.. poor guy, so sick so young.. :-(

And Chris is again fostering a motherless kitten. About four weeks old. All black. Very cute.

The new tech has renamed me. She calls me Elsa. I think I like that.. better than Asa at least..no one can even guess how to pronounce A S A...

Anyway.. After I got home i took off the tape to see how bad my toe is.. It is still swollen, and bruised..



poor toe.. poor me..

To end this entry, a funny 'story'..

CATS DIARY:

783 days in captivity ... My captors continue to torture me with bizarre dangling things.

They enjoy the fresh meat while I am forced to live on dry food and slimy CANNED FOOD.

The only thing that keeps me running is the hope that I one day manage to escape, and the mild satisfaction I get scratching at the furniture.

Tomorrow, I will possibly eat another potted plant.

Today I failed once again to kill my captors by trying to trip them with my body. Maybe I should try at the top of the stairs.

In an attempt to bring my oppressors off balance, I vomited a hairball in their favorite armchair. Note to self: put one on their bed.

Caught a mouse that I bit the head off. Put the headless body at the door as a sign to my captors what I am capable of, so they feel constant fear.

The response I got was a bunch of petting, hugs and cuddles and being told what a good kitty I am. Things does not go as planned.

This evening their cronies turned up for some sort of meeting. I was placed in isolation during the meeting, but I could smell their food and hear pieces of their criminal plans.

Apparently, I was locked up because of my strong ability to create something they referred to as' allergy '. I have to find out what this is so that I can use it to my advantage.

The other inmates are buttering our jailer and I dare not entrust myself to any of them for the risk that someone snitches.

The dog is released regularly from his shackles, but return voluntarily. He is obviously stupid.

The bird, however, gives the impression of being an informer. He talks regularly with our captors, and I am convinced that he reports every single step I take.

Thanks to its placement in the metal room, he is currently safe.

But I can wait. It is only a matter of time before my plans can be carried out...