Gramma says that I am growing. I still feel small. All the dogs are bigger than me. Gramma and Papa are bigger than me and all the people coming in to the store are bigger than me. Come to think of it, I have yet to meet anyone smaller than me!
I like to ride with Gramma on the golf cart. It doesn't make that awful sound like that great big machine that scooped me off the ground and then dumped me. Gramma says that is engine noise and that it is good for me to have a good healthy fear of them.
Healthy? I almost died!
I never try to jump when the golf cart is moving. That is why Gramma lets me ride with her. Gramma loads all kinds of stuff on it and we go and water gardens in the morning. She won't let me go to the ones near the woods with her, she says I might get ticks on me. Toni Louise told me that Gramma is afraid I will run into the woods and she will lose me. Oscar told me that Toni Louise is an escape artist. I am not sure what that means or what it has to do with anything.
I guess she paints. Gramma is always painting something, signs mostly. How would you paint an escape?
This is one of the signs Gramma painted. Papa had made a sign, but it was small and black with letters carved in it. Gramma explained to Papa that she wanted to draw attention to the sign so that people would read it and not go driving into our yard. Papa said that he thought it should be tasteful and discreet. Gramma pointed out that the tasteful and discreet sign was not getting the job done. Gramma won.
Gramma shouldn't worry about me going into the woods. I don't like to go too far and not be able to see Gramma. Sometimes I lose her in our yard, like when I am running through her basil. I stop and meow real loud and Gramma will answer me. She will say, "Martha, I am over here." I run to her and try to bite her toes, but she sprays me with water.
I like to pretend that I am a tiger in the jungle. Gramma has been letting me play outside all by myself lately. Papa gets all upset about that and says that a car will run over me. Gramma told him that I was smart kitten and that I was afraid of engine noises and would run back to the porch and meow at the door until she let me in.
Oh, I get it! That is why she called my fear of engines healthy! She is right, I am a very smart kitten.
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