I apologize for my prolonged absence. So much has happened since I last addressed you, but I think I may simply tell you of the shocking and deeply distressing events of today.
I was taken to the place of dread. No, not the giant bathtub with the roaring fire-hot air cannons which take away my glorious scent and replace it with something bland and forgettable. Although I fear that day is coming soon.
No, the other place of dread, where they force me to stand upon a rubber mat while they embarrassingly announce my weight to everyone within earshot, then put me in a windowless room that smells like fear and poodles with a metal table in the middle, then they poke and prod me in a dozen different unpleasant ways, including the exceedingly rude method of taking my temperature.
Today was the worst of such visits. Well, the SECOND worst. (We won't talk about the WORST.) This time, they punctured my precious flesh with giant needles and took my blood from me! They put it in a tiny glass bottle and ran it through some sort of machine, followed by the announcement that I, Moxie Puppypants, am hypothyroid.
I am not altogether sure what that means, although it seems to have something to do with my preference to lay on the floor instead of traipsing through the park for hours on end, and it also must have something to do with my sudden development of big bones. I'm big-boned, you see. That's what it is.
I aver to you now, I will NOT take pills unless they taste like bacon.
Or peanut butter. I will accept peanut butter.