It’s my birthday, and I’m 10 years old! That means I’m middle-aged in cat years. That means I’m not ready for Social Security, and I can’t cash out my IRA yet. Wait, I don’t have an IRA. Anyway, my man set up some party decorations in the dining room.
There was nowhere to hang the Happy Birthday banner, so he placed it on the dining room table.
The therapy organization I belong to sends me a birthday card every year, which is really nice of them!
Of course there is cake! My human tried to be frugal with the frosting, because it’s made with mascarpone, which is dairy, which is really not good for kittens! But he felt it was pretty okay, because the rest was cat food and treats.
To be honest, I don’t look like I’m 10! And I don’t feel it either. I mean, how many middle-aged people can jump vertically through a hoop?
So let’s turn up the music and start dancing! Maybe if we had enough catnip, we could all do hoop jumping.
Here are some of my past birthdays:
