OK. So mom sez I was kind of crabbee las tim, an that’s tru. I don’t lik rainee daes wen the sun is not shynin and the burds ar not hangin around outsyd. Is annoyin. At leest wen it snow, I kin watch the hoomin peeples brushin all the whyt stuff off their cars. Then they pullz thoz wipey thins up so they looks lik bug antenna. Is perty funnee to see hoomin peeples fussin round them big bugs.
But mom sez I got to mayk shur yu gyz is not feelin bad cuz of mai crabbee. So she sugjestid I shud wryt about somthin “nys,” like mebbee luv. (Somtims she’s sutch a gurl. Huh.) Huh.
So I sed: “Luv’s borin. Is all that kissee stuff.”
An mom sed: “Luv mayks the wurld go round.”
I sed: “No, it don’t. Grabitee does that. Or mebbee innersha. Somthin to do wift fhyziks, aneewae.”
She sed: “Luv conkerz all.”
“Nope,” I sed. “Yu tol me about Wurld Dominayshun an how mutch trubul peeples gets in wen they conkerz othr peeples.”
She thingkd about that fer a whyl. Then she sed: “It’s spring. Luv is in the ayr. If yu’r not in luv, yu’r jus not breethin hard enugf.”
I sed: “What?”
She sed: “Is somthin a frend of yer Ont Mishell sed.”
I aksd: “Is Ont Mishell from yer litter?”
Huh. So she mebbe is rigt. OK. I moslee breethz perty hard aftr I ben chaysin mousees wift mai ninja skillz. So I go do that now. Then we see what happn aftr.