OK, so my breath may have been smelly, some may say ripe, for a few days. That’s what comes of living on a diet of Whiskas, mice, the odd sparrow and drinking from that rather nice green puddle near the woodlouse nest. I do avoid looking in mirrors, but when I caught sight of myself, I couldn’t help noticing my furry face was more than a little lopsided.
They noticed it too, I’d no idea what they were talking about as I don’t speak human, but my finely-tuned feline instinct told me I was due for a trip in the moving box to the place of smelly dogs, bright lights and no escape.
I don’t think he appreciated the friendly love scratches I gave him as a thanks-for-nothing farewell. Anyway, next thing I knew I was minus a few teeth, which wasn’t too bad as they were hurting like hell, but to cap it all they’d bandaged my leg in girlie green. Don’t they know I’m a COOL cat?
I can tell they’re feeling guilty about the shame they’ve caused me because I can smell fresh chicken, salmon and steak, all lightly cooked and finely chopped. Hey – can I have some cream with that?