happy purr-day

  Another year, another birthday. I’m four now. I was so excited this morning that I woke my human parent up at 5.45am, demanding breakfast.

There were, at first glance, no presents to be seen. But when she got home this evening she came bearing gifts-a tin of tuna and salmon luxury cat food and a cat nip mouse that, quite frankly, doesn’t really compare with the live rodent that I dragged in the other day. Still, I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

She also told me that I share my birthday with the Queen of England, so I’ve been celebrating in similar style. Instead of waving regally at passers-by from a balcony, I’ve been watching the neighbours from the window ledge. As soon as one appears that I like, I shoot off to see them. They have cat treats you see, and leather sofas I try to sharpen my claws on. 

I also like to hide in their wardrobes. No-one can see me, but I can see them…



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