Strange happenings

Weed Staveley paws:

I think I may have to rip up a cushion in protest… too much has been going on at Weed Villas. Firstly, my human slaves had the audacity to go off on two jaunts in one month without me, leaving me without 24 hour crunchies and having to find a refuge away from my half-sister, henceforth known as the little black rat (LBR). Then came a whole stream of visitors which not only meant lots of cackling, the vile smell of that strange red liquid stuff in glasses and my slaves not being up early to give me breakfast when I order it but also that I could not sleep in my favourite places on top of the spare duvet (newly washed, naturally) or on the furry chair (furry, because I sleep on it!) And I nearly left home when one of the guests brought a white mutt with them. It’s outrageous. We operate a No Dogs policy at Weed Villas… primarily because they scare the whiskers off me.

To add further insult, my male slave (ok Daddy) asked the builders to come back so there has been lots of noise, dust in my bowl and nowhere to sit in the dining room because they’ve taken the sofa out. And as for Mummy, well, I’ve hardly had so much as a cuddle or a fuss as she’s been spending days up ladders with bits of paper in her hands and a strange stick with UHU written on it. Is that something to do with aliens? Have they taken over her body? I’d better pounce on her head early in the morning just to make sure it’s still ‘her’…

It’s all too much for an elderly lady from Batt’sea, I tell you. Even the lovely half-dead mouse that I brought in as a softener for my parents didn’t get the reception it deserved. What else is a cat to do?

When I get a moment’s peace, I spend it in my refuge in the cantina where I am busy drawing up plans for world domination. So far it involves 23 cat friends, a long piece of string, a pea-shooter and some out-of-date mascarpone. But please don’t tell the LBR as she’s bound to rat, being one herself.

Goodbye for now, comrades.