me-ow.

Last night was worrisome. I spent most of it hopping from rock to rock in an effort to not touch the snow. My efforts were fruitless, however, because I slipped. Enter a face full of snow and an aching nose. I spent most of the evening trying to win my way back inside by meowing as loudly as possible at the front window. My family gave me consoling looks, but I wasn't able to get in until the oldest girl left.

Once inside I was faced with the choice of which direction to walk in. I could either go left and down the stairs to a comfortable bed and this computer, or I could go right and head into the garage to sleep on my own. Obviously I chose the right or I wouldn't be writing about this.

I was plagued with the little cats climbing all over me, until finally I meowed in their ears loud enough that they relocated. But at night I had a dream. I dreamt that Bartholomew had come back. He was disappointed with the way the mission is going. He swiped at my head and I woke up. He was always a little intense.

Now I really have to get to work. I can't have another dream like that.