Dear Readers,

HELP!!! My people are trying to kill me! Matt is a scary driver. He flies over frost heaves and it feels like a roller coaster---all day long. The cage is sideways, so when I stand up to look around, I get thrown back and forth in the cage. Karen lets me out of the cage to sit on her lap. But her lap is bony and out in the open. All the passing trucks trying to fly down to eat me can see me from her lap. So I try to hide between the suitcases in the back seat. Karen doesn’t like when I do that because she can’t reach me to torture me some more, so she stuffs me back into my cage. I’d like it more if the blanket was comfy. Maybe. When I try to tell my people that I’m not happy, they talk to me in their angry voices. I guess that means they don’t want me to be happy. That makes me even more upset. I thought they liked me.

The hotel is fun though. I like hotels. Sometimes I get my own bed. Karen gives me all her extra pillows so I sleep like a queen. Queen Zoey. I like the sound of that. Please tell Matt and Karen that I’m royalty and should be treated like this all the time. I like all the new smells and I can hide under the beds.

I also enjoy licking the soap from the bathtub. Karen doesn’t like it when I drink from the toilet either, but the water is so fresh and cold, I can’t resist. Why do the hotels have toilet lids? I don’t know how to put them back up to get a drink! I figure that if it’s harmful and I get sick, at least I’ll be at the vet and not in the car. I’m assuming the vet’s office isn’t constantly shaking.

Each morning, I can tell when they’re preparing to leave. I hide under the bed and Karen either kicks me out or yanks me out by the tail. I’ve thought about asking them to mail me to California, but that would probably be worse to go without a litter box that long. My poop really stinks, so that wouldn’t be a fun ride.

Please save me!!! I think that my people are trying to kill me! When we were leaving Alaska, they told me I could go to the shelter in Fairbanks or come with them. But they were sneaky when they asked me. Nothing was throwing me around inside of a terrible cage at the time. Help me!

Urgently,
Zoey

PS- Enclosed is a photo demonstrating my distress.