My goodness, has it really been 4 years already?  It’s hard to believe that we just met 4 years ago on Christmas, and I held you in my loving arms.  I’m sorry that it has come to this, I really am.  We were getting along together so nicely, being together, being in each other’s arms.  I loved waking up in the morning and seeing you there, glowing, and happy to see me.

I’ll try not to cry, and I want you to be strong, too.  No, no, it’s best that we part ways here; I know that we will be together, someday.  You were with me all throughout those years in college, and I can’t thank you enough for that.  You held me in my darkest hours, were a source of laughter, of sadness.  I won’t forget all of the memories we have had together.

I can’t believe that we can no longer be together, and although I didn’t want for it to end, I know that it was for the best.  When I inserted the Windows XP Pro disk to reformat your harddrive, I knew that I was taking a piece of you, and wiping you clean, forever.  You will be much faster, and not bogged down with so many programs this time, my Dell 600M Laptop, and I promise to keep you cleaner this time.

It’s better this way.

Yeah, yeah, I know: I’ve been quite scarce around here lately.  Since I put up my new template I haven’t really blogged since then.  I lead a boring life, what can I say?  Although, it may get mighty interesting come the next few weeks, now that I’ve settled in…

“You be brushing zee kitties?”  My vet says.  I hold up a box with Sara in it, vocalizing her thoughts of being shoved into a box after I woke her up.  You would probably be meowing like someone is tearing your limbs off, too, if you were sleeping that soundly on a comfy bed just moments ago.

“Yes,”  I practically have to yell over the loud meowing noise.

“What be zee problem?”  The vet talks easily over my cats piercing meows as if he does this a thousand times a day.  I can’t place his accent, sounds kind of German and Indian mixed.  He doesn’t have air conditioning in his tiny, two-room office, but who cares, he hasn’t killed my pets yet and, the prices are average.

I explain my problem to the vet, and he nods.

“I see,”  He says, carefully opening the box and lifting Sara out of it.  Her discontent reaches it’s highest pitch; as my cat looks at me, I realize: if looks could kill, I would be engulfed in flames right now, screaming.

He places her on the exam table, which also doubles as a scale.  She lays down immediately on the cold steel, looking around wide-eyed; the meowing has finally stopped, at least.

“Twelve-point-nine ‘ounds,”  He says quietly to a woman nearby.  She jots down a note.

“I’m sorry did you say erm…12 pounds?” I ask.

“Yes, last time you were here when you feerst got her, she was 9 ‘ounds,” He says, frowning, “Zis…zis is too much.”

“Uh, maybe they didn’t feed them enough at the shelter? She was probably scared…”  I start.

“Four pounds in 4 month’s, zis too much,”  He says, cutting to the chase.  Then, he turns to his assistant, “I said did you get zee 12.9 pounds?”

She nods.

“Alright, alright, how much should I be feeding them?”  I ask, making a mental note to read the back of the dry food bag.

“Depends on the type of food,”  He says, shrugging.

Both general and specific at the same time; that takes talent.  Pretty soon I’m done, and I have new pills for my cat.  Once I get home, Sara immediately runs under my bed and doesn’t come out for the next three days, except, of course, when I’m not around to eat food and use the litter box.

Welcome to my life.