He sits in his cat box on the way to the vet and chats to me but doesn’t complain. And while the shot has clearly made him a bit feak and weeble he’s snuggled up here next to me on the sofa and is sleeping like a baby. How could I have resisted his pleas for steak when he got home?
Well, he didn’t know it was that he wanted… you know how it is… looking at the fridge looking for a smackerel of something not really knowing what you want.
Just as well I can read his mind.