Said small tabby cat who doesn’t live here, as she jumped up on to my bed and nuzzled my ear.
Koff, I replied as I pushed her back to the floor. Do you have any idea what time it is? It’s three o’clock. Three o’ bloody clock. I told you I was letting you stay in on the understanding that you behaved yourself. No secret drinking, no sneaking friends in and no disturbing my fragile sleeping pattern.
She jumped back on to the bed and nuzzled my ear again.
Bastard things, cats.
They worm their way in to your affections; start off on nodding terms but before you know they’ve attached themselves to your life like soft cuddly little limpets.
Tabby-coloured limpets.
So I opened my (first floor) bedroom window and threw her out.
Well no, of course I didn’t.
I gave her a stern glare and tried to sleep.
Both failed.
Bastards.
B.
I liked the “koff” part. Can I use it or do you have copyright for it? Lol
I hope you managed to go back to sleep, it’s horrible when you still have a couple of hours before getting up and your sleep has been interrupted.
So much for you telling me you didn’t have pets! I think you are kidding yourself there!
froggywoogie: help yourself!
Trixie: Nononononononono!!! Small Tabby Cat Who Doesn’t Live Here is not my pet. Nor the pet of anyone else who lives in this house. She actually lives next door. Except – for the most part – she doesn’t. If you see what I mean?