Well friends it's getting closer to book time. Mom is so close but I've noticed her slacking a bit too. Seems that she has contracted a case of scaredy cat. Not from me mind you, maybe it was one of the kittens she petted at Petsmart?
She has to do some final tweaks to the format and come up with the summary for the back of the book. Seems easy right? Well you would think she was being asked to re-write the whole thing with the way she is dragging her feet. I see now that I need to bring in some accountability, a firm paw is required. I am formally outing her, the slacker. So I may not allow her much free time for commenting or anything else fun.
I was looking back over my large collection of posts and I saw one titled "The Hunger Strike", post #2 mind you. It was all about how Mom needed to find me an agent or I was going on a hunger strike. Well that was nearly two years ago. Still no book on the shelf... Firm Paw! I may need to ask for your help friends.
The Hunger Strike Revised
In an effort to speed things along, I’ve decided to go on a hunger strike. I’m hoping it might create some urgency. It’s a small price to pay to help move things along.
Hour One - Hmm, I feel a bit peckish already. Maybe I should have breakfast first, and then start the hunger strike. I think that sounds like a sensible plan - a light breakfast and then right to it.
Hour Two – Luckily I’m still full from breakfast. I decided I needed to really dig in, and lay a solid foundation for future hunger pains by emptying my dish.
Hour Four – I had a nice nap. I checked with Mommy and she's not done. I feel bored now – a snack would sure be nice - but no, I’m standing firm.
Hour Five – I can’t stop staring at my dish. It’s like a magnetic pull, a gravitational force. I’m a moon to its planet and I long to be in its orbit again.
Hour Seven – I feel very cross now. Mom was trying to console me with snuggles, and I took a little nip of her hand (ironically the hand that feeds me, under normal circumstances). She tasted so good, so solid, I gnawed her for a few moments, and feeling guilty - she even let me.
Hour Eight – It’s getting dark now - maybe it’s the starvation. Mom said it’s my twilight – oh, no, Mom says it is twilight, not my twilight. It’s so hard to stay focused.
Hour Eight and a Half - Mom is growing concerned, maybe it’s my constant cries.
Hour Nine – I’ve had it. This is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t be expected to starve for heaven’s sake. Oh, apparently that is the expectation, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be. Maybe I can go on a “Hungrier Strike”.
I’ll cut way back on my food and no treats at all (well, unless Dad should drop some lunch meat). I think it’s a good compromise.
Thank COD I gave up till now, I would have starved, Mom!