It's a new dawn; it's a new day; it's a new life...
Nah, that can't be right. Hmmm...
It's a new day; it's a new week; it's a NEW YEAR, for me.
And it's a New Year for you, too. And you, and you, AND YOU!
EVERYBODY GETS A NEW YEAR!
Let me tell ya, my friends, these past forty-two weeks have been tough goin' for a kitty like me. I mean, HAVE YOU EVER had to deal with a peep named Peepers for two hundred and twenty-eight million, six hundred and fourteen thousand, four hundred cat seconds?
Well I don't recommend it, at all.
Oh sure, it could be worse.
2020 was the worst year EVER, of all my nine lives.
But I'm hopin' for new and better things, these comin' months. I'm hopin' that soon the peeps will go to the vet and get their shots and I'll be able to get them out of the house more and all that, 'CAUSE HAVIN' THEM AROUND ALL THE TIME IS CRAMPIN' MY STYLE, FOR SURE.
Why just the other day...
Just the other day - New Year's Eve, in fact - I was hopin' to have a rip-roarin' party and invite all the cats in the neighbourhood over to get nipped and whatnot - keepin' gatherin' limits and social distancin' in mind, OF COURSE - but...
But nobody wanted to come over once they found out there'd be two peeps under paw.
Well, that and the fact that all the neighbourhood cats and I don't actually get along.
But that's a TRIVIAL matter, for sure. EVERYBODY gets along when there's nip bein' served.
But like I said, THIS COMIN' YEAR IS GONNA BE BETTER, for sure. I've already put 2021 on notice that if she steps one paw outta place, she'll be out the door, lickety-split. That's right, 2021 starts misbehavin' and I'm gonna rip the calendar off the wall, take the batteries outta all the clocks, and whisk my way into 2022, pronto
SO YOU HEAR THAT, YEAR 2021? You better behave or there'll be h's and double hockey sticks to pay, for sure. You'll be put out with the used litter and all the other trash.
Remember to mask up, too.