I was offered a nice piece of ham earlier today, and the only thing I had to do to get it was get into this crate thing. It only dawned on me after the door clicked shut behind me that crates mean travel.
Mr Kit-Kat was similarly fooled into being boxed up and we were both taken for a car-ride which thankfully did not end up at the vet (last time I was there my essentials were removed, not an experience I want to remember.
Anyhoo, here I am in this place called “attic” which is nice and bright. There are lots of things to investigate, including some stuff called “gym equipment”. Apparently humans use these things for exercise. I have tried some of them out, they make quite a nice obstacle course. Mr Kit-Kat is sulking in a corner, but that’s his problem. As long as this Yours Truly Confused person wants to buy my affection with treats, and I’ve got things to check, I’m quite happy.
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