Dog bed

Possession is nine-tenths of the law.

Two

It was my birthday yesterday.

I'm all grown up now.

No one can tell me what to do any more.

Before and Now

When I was a teeny baby....

And today.

I've grown into my feet, but I'm still heart-meltingly cute, Rachel says.

I agree.

Busted again

Rachel had a visitor today. Ann.

Ann worries terribly about cats and dogs, and birds and mice, and anything, really, that is alive and might need looking after. She feeds the birds in the park, for heaven's sake.

"Look out for a little tabby cat with a blue tag" she told Rachel. "I see it down by all that earthmoving machinery for the new footbridge, and I think it's after the robins there. Perhaps you can get near enough to read its name tag."

This is where she meant. To get to the footbridge you go this way:

Round the corner from my house onto this street, heading for the church.

Cross over the road at the church. That patch of grass is my territory!

Walk down to where that little path appears in front of the furthest red car.

That's the one.

Down the steps.

Across the road towards Armstrong Bridge. Turn right.

And head down the hill for the heap of earth.

You've arrived! There's the building work, and the new footbridge. It's meant to be rusty, Rachel says. She says she may be a Philistine, but.....

..... that she's not the only one who thinks it's a very ugly and expensive bridge. You have to click on the picture below to see how ugly it is.

Across from the heap of earth is this. A gap. Look closer!

It's a main road!

A very busy main road that goes to the seaside.

Anyway.... when Rachel heard Ann talk about the tabby cat, she took her into another room, where I was sitting just minding my own business, and pointed to me. She didn't say anything, but she had That Face on again.

Ann looked at me. She looked at my blue tag. "That's the one!" she cried.

After Ann had gone home, Rachel gave me the most fearful telling-off.

I had to promise never to go near that main road.

I'm going to stay indoors this evening. Promises are very serious matters, and I have to think about this one.

I do like robins though. Why is life so complicated?

Dog control

We were complaining to Rachel. "There's a dog wherever we look! They follow us about, they try to sniff us, they watch what we do, they're such a blasted nuisance!"

Rachel was in a receptive mood for once. Sympathetic, even.

"Watch this." she said. "Dead dogs in five minutes." We liked that idea!

And she lit the fire.

And it really was that simple.

Rachel showed us where the matches were kept, and said we could light the fire whenever we liked. She can be unexpectedly kind!

Clueless

Hey Millie! Over here!

Play! Play with me! Please?

Pffffff.... you must be kidding.

Cats never want to play. I just don't get it.....

Letter to a Nova Scotian beau

Dear handsome tabby Oliver,

You wanted to hear from me, with photos, so Rachel and I planned this letter to you, to thank you for being such a caring friend. I have been feeling a bit left out lately, and you were the only one who noticed.

You are a sensitive and thoughtful cat - much like me - and understand that my life isn't easy just now because of this:

The usurper! A dog. Or as Estorbo calls it, a d.a.w.g. Either way, quite monstrous.

We knew from the start that things weren't going to be easy.

The smell, for one thing..... And the beds, the toys, the hair, the drool, all over the place! We don't understand why Rachel is so delighted with this dog; she refuses to get rid of it.

Hamish is still boycotting it, but he does creep into its night-crate sometimes, and drinks its water. When it isn't there, of course. Hamish has to be careful. He trusts no one.

Lottie and Scooter have formed a team. They are planning something, but I'm not allowed to know what. Like I say, I've been left out. No wonder I'm starting to speak to that dog now, out of desperation.

But you have been so kind. The parcel you sent was a lovely thought.

Temptations and a card for us, and some things for Rachel. She doesn't need presents, but it was kind of you anyway.

I smelled the package carefully. "Eau d'Oliver le Beau" I thought. And I was right!

Rachel said it had flown across the sky to get to us. Hard to imagine.

Scooter liked the Temptations. He loves food and treats. Especially treats. That's why he is known as Billy Bunter in our house.

He can't read, and only thinks about food, so the card was wasted on him. I, on the other paw, am a more cultured creature, and greatly appreciated both the message and the Hiroshige drawings.

On behalf of us all, here in this doggy hell, thank you very much.

Your loving tabby friend,

Millie

PS Next time, please could you enclose a ticket to Nova Scotia? Rachel tells me I could fly. I would like to try that!