A Grand Weekend Out

Moms and Dads went to Maine this weekend to see Mam, Bamp, Uncle Blaine, Auntie Patty, Uncle Dale, Auntie Chris, Nikki, Dave, Marissa, Kasey, Boy Kasey, Mac, CJ, Dylan and newest baby Cameron. Because they were going away and they felt guilty, they sent me to the pleasure palace, which is more commonly known as Captain Kitt's All-Inclusive Kat Spa. At the Spa (pronounced "spah"), Archy and I stayed in the Surf and Turf suite. We were given three rooms that were connected with tunnels, which were big enough for chubby tumtums to fit through, and had unobstructed views of both the 55-gallon fish tank and the parakeets in the cage. (Both were frustratingly out of reach.)

Moms and Dads took Archy and I to the spa because, two nights before they went to Maine, I woke them up at three in the morning with an asthma attack. It was a mild one, but it scared Moms so much that she woke up Dads so he could watch too. (They literally stare at me. It's kind of annoying.) The peoples at Captain Kitt's could give me medicine. I was tough and said I wouldn't take any while I was there, though. The "First Mate" lady told Moms something about my prednisone being "in" my catnip night cap but I don't know what she was talking about.

At Captain Kitt's, I received great treatment. I got an appetizer with every dinner (a shrimp!), wet food, kibbles and a cat nip night cap. Moms and Dads also felt so happy that they sprung for a 10 minute massage for both Archy and I every day. Unfortunately, I had my grumpy pants on every time it was was massage "time" and, instead of being po-lite, I showed fang and growled. Archy, however, was all about the massage. He watches fancy-pants teevee like the Home and Garden channel and said that he's been thinking about adding massage as a feature of his business, Work Out Basement. So, when it was massage time, he went limp and lapped it up. In all, Archy got four massages. I got none -- but Archy said that's what you get when you have your grumpy pants on. We also got play time and got to watch cat teevee that aired "The Kitty Show." It's almost better than Ellen.

Moms and Dads came to get us today. I cried but was excited to go home too. The whole way home, I talked. I told Moms and Dads about the fishies and the birds and how the Captain and First Mate said that they were only for looking and not for touching and that they didn't believe me when I told them fishies and birdies would like being kept warm in my mouth. Then I told them all about shrimps (Moms is allergic but I'm not!) and catnip night caps and how we should incorporate these culinary rituals into our nightly feedings. (I mean, just dumping measured diet kibbles into a bowl doesn't necessarily scream Four Seasons.) Moms kept saying, "Uh-huh. Uh-huh." But then, as we were coming up to New Haven, Moms said, "Uh-oh." Dads said, "What?" Moms said, "I think Archy's got to go." Dads thought Moms was crazy, but I knew. I was meowing to Archy, "Why didn't you go before we got in the car? That's what parents are always saying!!!" And Archy just cried back, "I don't know! I don't know! BUT I HAVE TO GO!" And, meanwhile, Dads kind of thinks that Moms is nuts for thinking that Archy has to go potty. I mean, really, how would she know?

Moms was right. We got to the Milford Mall exit and, wolla, Archy pooped. Boy. Did he poop. He knocked the new car sniff right out of Moms' car, Eli. And, for the remaining ten minutes home, Moms and Dads gagged and laughed. Moms threw up a little in the yard when we all got home and we all learned a lesson -- go before you get in the car.

I had to sniff everything once we got home but, now that I'm sure I'm home, it's good to be here. I had fun at Captain Kitt's though. I am sorry that I growled at the First Mate. It's just that, sometimes, I wear grumpy pants (I get it from my Moms) and, well, I'm just not myself if I'm not snuggled up next to my Moms and Dads.

I learned a rating system from a book on tape that Moms and Dads listened to on the ride home. It was by Ruth Reichel, former restaurant critic of the New York Times, called "Garlic and Sapphires." She rates things with stars. I , however, like squirrels. So. I give Captain Kitt's three squirrels. Three furry, warm, squishy squirrels. I love the squirrels and I hearted Captain Kitt's too.

JDamn - OUT!