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For those of you out there who are wondering more about me: I am two and a half months old. My birthday is 29 Februay 2005. Now, I know, you are all shouting out right now that there was no 29 February in 2005. Well, I was just being born that day and really can't explain how it happened. It was stressful enough to take my first breath and start nursing and, honestly, I just didn't have time to ask how it happend to be a day that only comes once every four years. I weigh two pounds according to the vet, but I really do have some doubts about that. I keep standing on the scale in my apartment and it doesn't register any change. I think the vet is just trying to guilt trip me. I am all black except for this little patch of white on my throat. I also find a few white hairs throughout the rest of my coat, and am hoping that I am not prematurely greying. That could certainly be the case with the stress I am under from being chased all over the apartment with my medicine. Aaargh! That is quite a hassle. I am getting settled down for the night and content as a sparrow in my stomach when dad pulls out this awful tasting medicine. He runs after me, grabs me, and stick this tube down my throat. Sometimes I manage to escape, though. Saturday night I managed to spit it all over his shirt and this morning (yeah, he does it to me in the morning, too) I was able to put it on his foot. Then, as if this trauma were not enough, he shuts me out of the snuggly room (all these wonderful blankets and clothes and shoes) and then yells at me when I ask to come in. Now, tell me if it would really be my fault for going grey at such a young age!