I was born under a bush in the garden of a very exclusive house next to the council tip. My mother was a fine virtuous black and white cat. My father was a handsome ginger tom, or possibly a mangy old tabby with a great big head - my mother seemed a little unsure. There were 5 of us in the litter. My poncy tabby brother and our stupid ginger tailed sister who I allow live with me. They are called Tabby and Ginger Tail - how original is that? The two others - Spotty and Little Tortoiseshell disappeared - not really sure what happened to them, but more of that on another day.
The two people in the house who my mother decided should take care of us have subsequently been taken on as my housekeeping staff. They are still on trial, but have so far proved to be satisfactory. I call one of them "the pretty one", and she likes stroking me, so I occasionally oblige her. My poncy brother tries every trick in the book to ingratiate himself with her - it is sickening to watch, but she still prefers me. The other one, I don't trust at all, although he does at least provide me with a regular, though frugal, supply of prawns and as any servant worth his salt knows, these are the staple diet of all cats. Well I must go now, I have just noticed that the one I don't trust is digging the garden. I think I will go and roll in the dirt and kick earth on to the lawn before trampling over a few plants. After that I plan to adjourn to the bedroom to clean myself up on the duvet and take a little nap. Pop back tomorrow to find out more. Bye for now.
Hurry Up, Let's Eat
12 hours ago