
The boxes are back
Everything I own is in a cardboard box. I approve of the boxes. I have tested every single one, and I will keep testing them until we arrive in Neuchâtel.
Written by me, typed by the humans. Mostly about food.

Everything I own is in a cardboard box. I approve of the boxes. I have tested every single one, and I will keep testing them until we arrive in Neuchâtel.
First visit to Geneva. I had a Starbucks terrace by the lake, a front-row seat in my pink carrier, and nobody offered me a fish. The Swiss are polite, but their snack policy needs work.

Watched pigeons from my carrier for 47 minutes. No pigeons were caught. The humans had croissants. I had opinions.

I sat at the table. I was served nothing. There was lamb. I was told “no”. I will be raising this at breakfast, and again at both lunches.

Picnic day at Place des Vosges. The humans brought a blanket, bread and cheese. I brought my best posture and supervised from the grass. Nobody shared the cheese.

First time in the south of France. A garden with real flies. I caught none, but morale is high. The sun is excellent for 14-hour naps.
