Last night I barfed on the sofa. The BRAND NEW sofa. The Woman was not happy about it, but she cleaned it up anyway while I sat there feeling quite pleased with myself. I mean, I've managed to nail both the new rug and the new sofa in less than three weeks, I think.
The problem is that it wasn't a hairball. It was a total surprise--I was just curled up there taking a nap, minding my own business, when suddenly there it was. Barf.
While the Woman was sleeping last night I barfed again on the bathroom rug and then in the library. And this morning I didn't pester her to get out of bed to feed me, I just let her sleep. When she did get up to feed us...
Doods, you won't believe this.
She opened a can of tuna Stinky Goodness for me, but I didn't eat it. I didn't eat! I sniffed at it and licked it a couple of times, but I just didn't feel like eating.
She even tried giving me crunchy food, and then crunchy treats, but I just couldn't make myself eat.
I'm not sure how I got sick, but obviously, I'm just not feeling well. So I think I'll spend today napping on the bed with the fuzzy blanket, and hopefully after 8 or 9 hours of sleep I'll feel better.
I hope so, because not eating? That just isn't right.