Sorry for the lak of posts. It has been sad rownd heer, becoz Miss Fluffy died. She waz ill for a few weeks an she got very weak suddenly an the Vet-doctor sed they cuddent do enything else. So Mummy sed it waz best we took her to the Vet-doctor an he wud help her die gently in a deep sleep an it wud awl be kwik. Well it waz awl kwik but it awl waz sad. Por Miss Fluffy waz so weak an tyerd on the larst day she cud ownly walk 2 steps an then sit down, an she dident like to lift her hed enymore cos it waz too differcult.
Miss Fluffy was neerly 18 wich is very old in cat yeers.
Her bruther, Mr Scooter, has lookt for her a littol bit, an is stikkin close to Daddy for manly hugs.
Mummy is very sad an crys lots. She sez she misses cuddling her and sniffing her cheesey toes. (Hmm. I noe, but best not to say enything.)
I feel very orkwerd cos I want to be exsytid bowt Crosmoss coming, but I want to be kwyert for Mummy too. It's hard to be exsytid an be kwyert an thortful too. I think if I layer the pant dror wiv at leest 3 layers ov pants I shud be abol to hav a frolic kwyertly, in between thortful looks, wat do yu think?
I miss her too. She waz very good at playing "Bear! Not a Bear!". Sept she calld it "Cat! Not a Cat!"
Snfff. Ssssssnnnnff. Snf. Cats do go to Heven, don't they?