It's everywhere and I'm reaching the end of my tether with it. You can't move on my mooring without your paws being caked in mud. Then when I go onto my boat it gets trampled everywhere. My towel is covered in muddy pawprints, as is the table, kitchen cupboard, couch, armchair, pouffe, bed etc etc. In fact anywhere I decide to put my gorgeous paws. And it does nothing for my luxuriant fur. Yes, you could blame it on all the heavy rain we've been having but I much prefer to blame it on those two. Particularly the lummox. What's the improvident lackwit playing at? Why doesn't he get his fat arse out there and do something about it? Instead he just comes home after a days work and sits on it - his fat arse I mean, not the mud. I've tried meowing at him on countless occasions but the berk just thinks I'm being cute and keeps asking me what the matter is. I'll tell you what the matter is oh large one - I'm sick of all the bleeding mud. Now get out there and do something about it.
To be honest I'm getting sick of his hopelessness and have started to snub him, choosing instead to make a big fuss of Ange all the time, sitting on her lap for hours on end until her legs go numb, diving onto her fromm the window sill when she's asleep, butting her with my head when she's trying to read and all other manner of catty cuteness that she loves. No doubt this is making the lummox immensely jealous but he's no-one to blame but himself. But I'm not a cat to harbour grudges. As soon as he gets out there and gets rid of all that mud I shall allow him to make a fuss of me once more. And, in due time, I shall sleep on his chest again (with clean paws).
P x
