Few things I'm a bit concerned about. Firstly, Uncle Simey was only giving me 2 sachets a day but Mummy spoke to him on his green device and said it should be three, and quite right. Simey relented but said it'd depend if I was eating everything he put down. He reckoned the local cats might start calling me 'Burstie Bertie' but I think he was trying to be funny. He's like that. Earlier, he called me a "muscly bastard". I decided to take it as a compliment.
On another note, Mummy asked for the thermostat to be turned down to 15. Errrm hello? It is middle of winter! OMG, I was like "just cos I have a fur coat girlfriend, don't freeze me out". It's okay for her, I've been to Ash Villa and I know how cosy she will be.
Had a good play anyway, lots of ping pong ball/tube action and some top scratching post play to start things off.
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| On my scratching post |
Later on, just when I'd given up hope of another visit, a drunk Uncle Simey rocked up at midnight, covered in snow, giggling and doing impressions of TV person Chris Tarrant. At least he fed me. He then chased a ping pong ball around whilst I sat there in horror and eventually lay down in the middle of the carpet. Very odd.
The following morning, Grandma Chrissy came round (DOES EVERYONE HAVE A KEY TO MY PAD?) but it was nice to see her. She brought loads of food and we had a quick play. I assume Uncle S's hangover had got the better of him, loser.
See you soon, Bertz
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