My servant, whom I lovingly refer to as “The Dork” is doing other things today so I have stepped into the breach. The Dork says I have to write about six things in the garden. Well that’s about the number of lives I have left.
But I don’t want to give you too much me in one go. You’d be overwhelmed by my pawgeousness. And anyway, I’m not a “thing” in the garden. Instead, I’ll stroll around my domain, taking a look at things from from my sensible down low perspective. We cats are definitely more sensible than humans. I mean, why does Gill Heavens use tonic water to shave her legs?
I often watch The Dork digging holes in the garden. He digs a hole then he puts something in it to fill it. So the hole is no more. Why did he dig it in the first place? He waits for plants to flower. Then he cuts the flowers off and carries them into a room I’m not allowed to enter. Will someone explain to me why “leather furniture and claws” translates to “you’re not going in there!”.
I would climb a few trees but it’s difficult with a camera hanging round my neck, weighing me down. So I’m at ground level.
The Dork tells me that the guy who runs this show, Mr Propagator, has recently become slave to two kittens. Which makes him a probationary double-dork I suppose. (Hey, you two, if you want advice on dork training, just get in touch.) Anyhow, if you pop over to his blog, you’ll find his Six for today. At the bottom of that there’ll be a growing list of links to other blogs whose owners have written Sixes too. Some of them may also be cat servants.
As for me, I now have to go back to being an ordinary cat. I used to be famous. I had more Twitter followers than The Dork. I’m a Vanalike, you know, and still webmaster of the Vanalikes Club but I just can’t get the staff to help me to update things. My page is way out of date; YouTube channel’s disappeared; website’s gone; blog’s gone. The Dork is useless. I used to be one of The Aviators. That was fun.
Maybe I need to relocate again and find more co-operative staff. Still, now I’m off to patrol the neighbourhood before my mid-morning nap. Where did The Dork leave my Dreamies, I wonder. He probably forgot to put those out for me. I repeat, The Dork is useless. I will have my revenge one day.