Mom says I’m a furry, four-footed wrecking ball. What does she mean by that, Hemingway?
Here, I found a picture on the internet thingy.
Never mind your fluffy tummy. We all know you love food. Anyway, Mom calls you a wrecking ball ‘cuz you seem to get into EVERYTHING.
So do you!
I’ve grown up a little so I don’t knock everything off the shelves, tables, desks and bookcases. Even last night you managed to knock down a round candle and you were chasing it all over the house.
It was fun!
You also do lots of exploring, as evidenced in the following photo:
I was just checking things out. By the way, is this a Kitty Wash machine? There’s plenty of room for even you!
Steinbeck, get out of there!
Steinbeck, want to know another way you are a wrecking ball? You wreck all my peaceful time.
But you love me! Besides, this is good exercise for both of us. Mom said you were supposed to slim down so I’m just helping!