I went to “the City” last night to pick up Christmas from his own vacation. Instead of a Paris hotel, Christmas has been lounging in a swank Twin Peaks flat. He’s been able to watch the city, the birds, and the people from his private glass-enclosed atrium. He’s had meals of fresh shrimp and a steady stream of adoring fans.
It’s little surprise that he ran under the bed when he realized I was the latest in the parade of admirers. Yes, my little buddy, it’s time for your vacation to end as well. Don’t worry, I’ve got a can of fancy feast for you at La Petite Maison Bleue.
“Au revoir Joe” he meowed as I shoved him into his faux-Louis Vuitton cat carrier.