I'm trapped in NY

So as some of you darlings are aware, I was rudely abducted from my quaint town in WA and forcibly placed into a moving vehicle for 4, long, gruesome days by my slaves (to which I sat under the gas and brake pedal in hopes it would kill us all) as we moved to the state of NY.
I hate cars. I hate hotels. I hate my slaves. actually, as I write this, I am currently hiding in a closet from them. There is speak of a few more car rides. I am planning a protest. I'm sure it will involve Cat Howling; I found out the female slave is not happy about Cat Howling, thus I will use it to my advantage. I hope that she will be so tired from my Cat Howling ALL night, that we'll just crash and die on the other car trips so I no longer have to withstand ANY MORE.

I will say, on a less morbid note, the place they are holding me hostage is quite beautiful. I only see it at sunset and sunrise (because the herd of people that are here are quiet and asleep then), through the safety of a screened window. It's right on a large lake, there's birdies EVERYWHERE and lots of green grass. It's cat heaven. I wish we could stay here. I WILL make my slaves stay here.......


Until later,
Booger.

Moving.

Sucks.

To prove how mad I am, I threw up a massive hairball where the slaves were packing. HA.

Update on massacring.

So yesterday, after the vet. I murdered a bird. I think my woman slave was terrified; she looked like she was trembling a little but kept repeating "You're such a good boy! And so skilled at hunting!" in a retarded baby voice. So I hid under a chair and moved Beaky around when she wasn't looking. I think she was more disturbed when she saw the blood pools Beaky left. I bet she's terrified. Just what I want.

This is Beaky after I crumpled his body.

Vet visits.

Today marked the last day for my yearly shots this year. I'm stoked. I hate the vet. It smells like dog mouth and people always feel the need to stick me with needles or shove things up my ass, AND they always comment on how surprised they are to find out that I only weight 14.2 pounds. Wow. I didn't have a weight complex before, but everytime I have to get weighed, they expect me to weigh like 800 pounds.

I hate my woman slave. She forcibly makes me go there. Does she not know they make house calls?

Over the last 6 weeks I've had to go in 4 times. All for shots. Which I hate. A lot.
To show my woman slave how pissed I am at her, each night after I get home from the vet, I go capture a tiny mouse or a massive moth and I bring it to the door, yell for her and then slaughter it right infront of her so she can witness my killing skills first hand. If this doesn't strike fear into her heart, she should be admitted.

Anyways, I'm off to go fill my belly with food and think about what I'm going to massacure for her tonight! Ta-ta!