She’s a dear woman and we get on like a house on fire .She writes too much though, I’ve literally had to jump onto the keyboard and prance on it until she lets me get a look in at the blog.
Something very strange has happened; it seems to me that there is less light than there was. I jump on her bed in the morning at the usual time and she grumbles “Wicca it’s half past 5!”.What’s that mean? I know when I have to eat don’t I! She also makes a fuss about leaving the door open as we’ve always done, says it’s cold. I suppose it might be for humans, poor naked things that they are. I’m not cold although I have changed from my daytime cushion where I do my toilette to a softer deeper warmer one at night. I’ve upped my calorie intake too. She says I eat as if there’s no tomorrow but I really want to put on some weight because I absolutely have to let the yellow cat (ginger I suppose but for me he’s yeller!) actually know who’s boss round here and he’s twice my size. But the reason I’m writing this is a rant directed towards my human. She has moved the bird table from a very convenient position accessible both from a tree branch or the fence and she’s put it in the middle of the lawn!
So if the birds do come there’s no hope of being able to get at them! Oh Anne you’re making my life more difficult, I can’t fly you know. Haven’t you enjoyed the dead birds I’ve brought you? And I’ve also brought you some delicious little mice so you don’t have to go hunting. (I’ve underestimated my human,she simply”hunts” in a different way to me. She goes out and comes back with a lot of bags full of the weird stuff she eats, I believe it’s called “shopping” or “going to the supermarket”)
I’m off on my evening rounds now; she’s finished in my garden for today and I must say it’s looking good. I just hope she remembers not to cover all the soil up with bark chippings otherwise I won’t know where to sh*t