Yesterday Bernie and Blondie put Hart and me into the big blue boxes and took us to see what they call "the vet".
I always put up a fuss when I see him, but really he is a great guy. He looked at the spots on my lips and said that they were "age spots" and that all orange cats get them as they age. He even said he could tell within a year how old an orange cat is just by looking at the spots.
I'm about eight or nine he said.
If you ever need to see a vet in Houston (not that I would wish that on anyone...) I would suggest you see Dr. Herb Muller at the Loop 494 Animal Hospital near Kingwood.
Dr. Herb. He's the best.
What is really cool is that every time I go to the vet, I get to see Paul. That's the guy who is standing behind my vet in the white jacket.
Paul was the guy that owned me and my brother Brownie and about twenty other cats. He knew me when I was just a wee lad, and had me until I was about three years old.
He tried to put me up for adoption but I just never could get the hang of acting all cuties and cuddly. I figured me and Paul and the rest would be just fine together, so I usually scratched the heck out of anyone who tried to make friends with me.
Paul thought I was unadoptable.
Paul hadn't met Blondie.
He was wrong: I didn't need to be cuddly; turns out all I needed to be was orange.
I'm really good at being orange, so that was all it took, and wham I was in a new house with a great big grey and white guy named Mac and a sweet little calico gal named Tidbit.
They've both gone over the rainbow bridge now, and Hart was brought into the family to fill in the spot that Mac left.
Anyway, yesterday at the vet I got shots and the vet said I should start eating soft wet food. God I love that man. Wet food is the best...I usually only get it on Sunday as a treat.
I also like him because he always tells Bernie and Blondie if the medicines will taste yucky. He tastes them himself first so he will know.
I think he does that because he is from Louisiana. They are real down to earth in those parts.
Like I said, a few things are new around here. Lately this thing has been in the kitchen, and Blondie puts Maui Wowie catnip inside it, and tosses my greenies in there too.
Usually she hucks them around and makes me run to get them.
Not any more. They are always easy to find inside the black thing.
At least I know they aren't cat carriers.
You saw those in the first picture...they are big and hard and blue.
Not like these at all.
This was the first one they got. It was kind of small, so they
actually got me a bigger one. They kept measuring it and measuring it...
They said this one is just right.
Right for what I wonder.
As you can see, I can hide inside of it if I want. No one can see me at all!
Hart has one that he calls "his", and we spend a lot of time rubbing on them and marking the edges with our whiskers.
A few days back Bernie started to wonder how much I weigh.
He said I can't weigh more than ten pounds.
I wonder why...he never cared about that before.
He even said something about cat frequent flier miles.
I sometimes jump pretty far, but I don't think I've done that frequently.
And I'm pretty sure I have never flown a whole mile.
Anyway, it is hot here, and everyone is staying up late watching TV and cheering when people swim or jump or something. I really am enjoying that...I just lay down next to them and purr.
It's a good life we have here.
Simple, easy, and predictable.
Except for a few things that I don't think I will trouble myself over.
Like the saying goes:
I never trouble trouble until trouble troubles me.
No trouble here!
And wet food for me!
Life is good.
So strange...Blondie had all her clothes out and she was stuffing them into a big bag. 
