I came down this morning and there was a space where Greebo should be. And my first thought was that he'd scarpered to die in peace. He'd been skipping meals and not a purry happy soul, not like him in the slightest.
Wrong!! He had just decided to leave his favourite snug place, to perch on the garden fence outside. It's bin day, and he has quite a few friends on the bin round, I think every team know him.
Can't let illness get in the way of greeting his public...so he assumed the position, and greeted ME with a scowl and a definite "What's YOUR problem?".
Apart from the fact that I thought you were dead, and was pathetically pleased to see you alive, you stupid sodding ingrate?
My problem is over-attachment to a psycho-cat, and his three mates and the dogs...
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