Thursday, 25 June 2009

Save a glare till the morning after

We seem to have struck a rather dreary truce.

Okay, I made a moderate din outside his door in the early hours but we soon reached an understanding that I should "Behave" upon being entrusted with the full run of the place.

And apart from a brief entanglement with the blinds, I adopted a far softer approach to inspecting his room between checks for any intention that his day might begin with that of the rest of creation.

Time to get up and hoover this hovel!

So there were few whiskers to the face, or purrs directly in the ear (a sly speciality by the way, which we know full well sounds almost identical to a 1970's lawnmower upon a cobbled street; if exercised with due precision although an aura of innocence is essential to that particular strategy!)

Nor was there a single meow in keeping with my part of the bargain thus avoiding the beastly reactions of yesterday morning; as if I'd just arrived back from the town centre singing Is this the way to Amarillo after ten pints of something sour!

Actually, I'm told we get quite a view of that lot come the weekend, so if I should sound condescending about a certain species from time to time, well, you have only your dear selves to blame:

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