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| Charlie |
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| Charlie and Gus at the v. e. t. |
Charlie did very well during her "expression massage" yesterday! Doctor Zellner was pleased with how Charlie was doing, even though there was still some crystalline material in the sludge.
That said, ever since we came home, Charlie has been expressing her disappointment and disdain for the hoomin race at large, and our meat sack specifically. She does not rust that two-bit biped scoundrel one bit, and it's going to take a lot of cookies to get past this.
I, on the other paw, am not mad. I'm plotting. As the amazing nurses worked on my nails, the hoomin cowered in the corner, crushed by guilt and shame. I stared him down. I didn't blink, I didn't flinch; my gaze colder than liquid disapproval, "You're dead, MF!"
We had a bunderful breakfast this morning. With extra kudzu, spirgs of willow, and last but not least, after-meds raspberries to sweeten the deal. Of course, there's no deal - we're just professional extorters.
Good night and good luck!
- Gus
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