Just an update on Life Post-Gina.
Would you know that I actually miss the old smelly mutt? And I miss our walkies late at night even more...Somehow strutting around the neighbourhood with your dog in tow is way more cool than just...walking.
My mates have adjusted to Bowie and me being dog-less. Big Black casually remarked that us not having our dog meant that some of the other toms a street away now thought that spraying the front door could be done...but that him and Mate had put a stop to that very fast. But Nose nastily said that Bowie should have less attitude, as Gina wasn't there to defend him. Nose should beware of his own attitude...Bowie is a young brat, but he's MY brat!
Apart from all that, it's all go over here in our household. My woman has taken the dog bed out of the living room and has put it out in the garden. She speaks of converting it into a raised vegetable bed, as it is a shame to scrap a nice piece of expensive wooden furniture.
Hm...I don't care for salad greens. And I wonder how she plans to keep the cats from pooping in it! Geez, I hope she isn't counting on me and Bowie to keep the other cats out of the back garden! That would make our spring and summer very stressful indeed.
Bowie has grown...a lot...He is now just as tall as myself, only slimmer.
We get along most of the time.
But sometimes he gets these funny moods, he races around the room then and up and down the stairs, and he wants me to wrestle him. Hah! I win every time, I only have to lay down on top of him.
That can be a bit tiring.
Right, that's all. Not a lot of news I'm afraid. So I'll leave you with a pressing matter:
I bet you haven't. Good! I don't like being kissed. Bowie does, but he's weird. No, I like a nice, gentle stroking from my head down to my tail. Not too long, mind. I'll tell you when to stop by biting you, okay?
Have a nice Sunday, tar rah!
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