Posted by on Aug 9, 2020 | 14 comments

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, not the actual Rockies, but a charming mountain made of rock in mama’s office, with my favorite sitting cloth on top, and climbing it (in the past) was not only for the view from its height but gave me a little buzz, too!

And in those days, I could scamper down like a…well…scampering kitty, no hesitation.

Now, of course, my climbing days are over because of a right front leg that, well, just isn’t as young as it used to be (even though I sometimes race up the stairs and mama and papa look at each other as in “WHA???  Did you see Loulou whiz by just  now?”

Maybe it was the Tragering mama does on my leg, whatever that is, not my leg, the treatment.

She sort of rocks my leg back and forth gently and loosens up the joint and it feels good.

So unpredictable, we climbers.  Just call me Reinhold Messner,  haha.  Maybe No-hold Messier would be more accurate.  I tend to slip a little on the stairs or ruffle the rugs when suddenly darting off to wherever we kitties dart off to…

BUT…it’s not that I will never climb again.  I think that with a few more grams off the tummy, I might just conquer my peak again and view the  world from the proper look-out for a Queen of The Peak. Or Peek…