I am born

Dear Diary,

Meowmy is feeding me cherry syrup and Catsip milk through a medicine dropper every four hours. I can’t control my bowel movements, and thus she has wrapped me in one of Dad’s stained fraternity t-shirts. He seemed upset when he returned from his classes at the university to discover this. They argued about the proper response to my illness, which is apparently parasitic by nature. Dad seems to believe that some time spent outdoors may be best. Meowmy was especially reactive to this suggestion, though I cannot imagine why.

I have noted that approximately  an hour after these feedings I become violently ill, at which time I am fed water and additional Catsip milk. It seems readily apparent that the feedings are causing these expulsions. Why doesn’t Meowmy see what is so evidently the cause of this issue, as I do? Is she doing this on purpose? I have tried to refuse these feedings, I have struggled, but alas, she overpowers me. At four weeks old have I fallen victim to Munchausen by proxy syndrome already? My portly round belly that drew these parents to me is quickly disappearing with every day that passes. Will I still be so eagerly loved when I am frail and thin, albeit, parasite free?

There is another kitten here, who is shockingly white with bright blue eyes. He lives upstairs with a woman who is very loud and makes sudden movements. She frightens me at times. I do look forward to our formal introductions soon enough, when I am allowed to leave the bathroom and explore my manor. Who else may be living here? I do not know.

In my brief aerial tour of the kitchen it appeared especially curious. I have noticed holes underneath the cabinets which might make a suitable kitten cubby, for when I serve tea and visit with the white kitten. Although, the sharp smells which radiate in ghastly waves throughout the room are quite deterring. Where is the maid?

There is an unoccupied bedroom to the left of the kitchen. I anticipate that once I am well this will be prepared to serve as my quarters.

Awaiting my succession to grandeur, 



the struggle



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