She was laying there, but I am his territory.
They claim he is terrified of her, but now as when I woke she is is snuggling in and he is stomping on top of her before snuggling down.
Stroppy little madam is sulking, in part because: I’ve watched 3 films today (and one at the cinema); it is raining; Gin is on my lap; and because I slept on the sofa last night.
I hope a peace is brokered soon, it’s lonely without her on the sofa too.
When you were supposed to have done pre parent tidying – but were sick.
When you are supposed to be helping as the garden is being tamed – but can barely stand or focus.
It’s been a while since I’ve been this bad, at least I’d thought it had. Then someone pointed out it was actually about a fortnight…
With drugs I can manage the light, but the beasts don’t give space, but do do concern and company.
He was still there when I woke!!!
This is two days in a row…
For the first time in years.
It’s strangely exciting when your cat snuggles on your pillow voluntarily.
He hasn’t been there since the the hound was little not under his own steam.
Apparently I did overexcited squeaking.
Cats will do anything for Dreamies so the adverts tell us.
I still maintain that though her passport says Jack Russle Poodle cross she’s actually a cat. Because she will mug the cat.
I noticed the cat had burnt his tail before he did. The smell of burning fur is at best grim.
He held it over a candle flame and scorched it. But didn’t notice at all.