new cat behavior

::purrrr::

Welcome back to my garden.  I can't actively manage my garden or snoopervise my dad because I've had some issues.  I can only look out the window.  Turns out that this year has been horrible for fleas...or as one of my furriends put it, a very good year for fleas and a bad year for kitties like me who are severely allergic to their bites.  All it takes is one of those little beasts and I chew and scratch myself raw.

I went to the v-e-t and they gave me a shot of antibiotics and I'm back on my prednisone pills.  They also shaved my furs off so I have a very "interesting" fur-do.  My mom and dad won't let me go outside, even if I have Garden Society business to tend.

Mom and dad are going to have to be aggressive in fighting the little flea monsters to protect me.  I'm sweet.  I must taste good to them.

I had to give dad specific instructions for gardening this weekend.  He had to go and find all of the vegetables that are still clinging on for dear life out there.  He did a good job and found the remaining green bell peppers.   

Figaro's momma was out in the garden enjoying our late harvest nip.  She said she'd be willing to help out since I can't be outside.  She's a member of the Society of Feline Gardeners as well, but she doesn't blog.

She helped mom find 9 wee little raspberries.  She butted mom's hand with her head and told mom to bring the berries directly to me.  Mom obeyed.

Thanks mom!  You can take the cat out of the garden, but you can't take the garden out of the cat!

Please leave a link.  It will make me purr if my furriends are able to get in their gardens this week.

Hey, let me out of here!  There must be some kind of mistake!!!!

Uh...no, looks like they really did want to see me.  I mean who wouldn't?

Um...as long as you are taking a look at me, can you make me stop itching?  My back is a mess.  What?  You've heard about my magical  belly furs and you want to take a look...rub them?  Well, ok, if you must.

Sheesh...the things I have to put up with!

Truth is, I feel much better now that the nice v-e-t lady gave me an anti-biotic shot and gave me some pills to take. I've been chewing on myself.  I'm a bit delicate you know.  All it takes is one mean old flea to feast on sweet me and I break out.

Not that I would complain or fuss or anything like that.

The week started out fantastic.  Let me tell you my furriends, don't ever let that fool you into thinking the week will stay that way.  Just remember you heard it from me.

Mom and dad cleaned out the workshop...and hanging from the ceiling was dried nip!  Yes, they just let me play in it and roll in it!  Wow!!!!  I'm thinking this is the best place on earth and me, Ginger, gets to live here.

But then, mom looks at my back...which my furriends, looks absolutely fine.  This photograph proves it.

But NO!  Mom says I'm a mess from flea allergies and I've got itchy spots and some scabs on my back.  And then she said the "B" word.

B.A.T.H.

Before I could even get a squeak out, I was swooped up and stuffed into the bathtub where mom had hypoallergenic soap ready for me.  I didn't even see it coming.  How unfair is that?

Mom said I was being a big baby because I didn't need a full body bath, just my back.  How's that for sympathy?  I thought she loved me.

Well, she did wrap me in a towel and say sweet things in my ear.  I guess I can forgive her....maybe.