Touchy feely stuff

So there I was, lying on her and she was lying down too. I looked into her eyes, because she likes that kind of thing. Then suddenly she grabbed it right down at the base and squeezed it really hard. Oooh, you like that don't you? Is that nice? Oh, yes, that's nice isn't it big boy?

And it was. I couldn't help but dribble a little bit over her.

Grooming

Just had my supper - beef. She's quite traditional like that. Roasts on Sunday, fish on Fridays. We had a lie down on the sofa while she watched another of those never ending detective thingies. While I snoozed, she pulled all the knots out of my fur. By the time the murderer was revealed, she was covered in fur and I was several ounces lighter. She's having a shower now, sneezing all the way.

I feel very smooth. I think I might go out on the pull soon.

Food, food, sleep, food, sleep, food, food

Today I have had five meals. I started with a breakfast of tuna, then had some chicken, then ordered second helpings of the chicken, then finished the tuna then had some nice shredded chicken breast. If I go on like this, I won't be able to fit under her bed any more.

I found some time to lie on the sofa, on top of my bird. She fidgets a bit and always wants control of the remote. When I woke up all bleary she said: you were snoring, fat boy. Something to do with the meals she dishes up.

Two dinners

I had two dinners last night. A fish course followed by a meat course. I don't eat vegetables. Or fruit come to that. Both are for girls.

Anyway, I was telling you about my escape plans. After exhausting myself on making my Britney rainfall note, I woke up some time later in a confused state. I seemed to be lying in a warm nest of shredded paper and it took some time to locate the note. Disaster! In my sleep I had drooled all over it and it fell apart in my paws. All that hard work for nothing. I was shattered with the disappointment and rolled into a ball. I fell into a dreamless sleep.

Sick as a - well - a cat

This bird's driving me mad. I think I must have had a heavy night because I brought up my breakfast today. I couldn't be bothered to rush to the toilet, so I just barfed up on her 'vintage' (AKA second hand) carpet. After giving me 'the look', she rubbed my tummy for a bit and left me lying on the sofa. I sent her out to get me some fancy food and she burst back in singing one of those dreadful songs she makes up.

Your name is Marley
You ride a Harley
And now your poorly
Your tummy's sore-ly

She never considers it might be this kind of thing that is making me sick.

Zola - la la la la Zola

She's getting ready to go out. Never bothers to ask if I mind. Trying on outfits she is, each one slightly more stupid than the last. I have tried giving her a look but what's the point? Doesn't bother me, so long as I don't have to be seen out with her.

Anyway, the football's on the radio. Come on you 'ammers.

Lying in

I have just woken up. This might be a record as I think I went to bed after high tea at 3.15 yesterday afternoon. When I sauntered downstairs, there she was in the kitchen unpacking shopping and eating bread and butter. She gave me a look and muttered something that sounded like 'slob'. I stared back and asked what was for breakfast and it had better be something more manly than bread and butter.

Toilet trouble

I've just been to the toilet and really stank the place out. She's in there now cleaning it out. I heard her gagging.

The power of the press

Every day my captors lined the floor of my cell with fresh newspapers. After reading the sports pages I started to shred the papers using my long nails. I began to experiment with using my drool as glue. I discovered that mixing it with half chewed food and letting it hang from my chin had the desired effect. I managed to stick two words together.

Britney rainfall.

Worn out by my efforts, I slept for the next 14 hours.

Other prisoners

I can’t believe she made me watch the football last night. Silly mare. Where was I?

Despite the harsh routine I was starting to regain my strength. Although I was kept in ice-lation, I started to hear noises from neighbouring cells. Scratching and digging! Not only were others in my situation, but they too were set on escape. Did they know I was here? Could we pool resources and work together to overthrow this evil regime? I set about getting a message to my fellow prisoners.

What time is it?

My body clock’s been off all day. What happened in the football? I am a West Ham man myself, and my bird thinks that this is another thing that bonds us because her useless team plays in the same colour strip. Women! What do they know about football anyway? I asked her to leave Radio 5 on when she left the house this afternoon but then I fell asleep and missed it all. She'd better be back in time for Match of the Day.

Still awake - I'll be ill at this rate

I sleep on the sofa most nights. Others I sleep in the spare bedroom. Once I even woke up and I was on the landing and must have been there for some time because there was quite a lot of drool on the carpet.

I’ve only tried to get into bed with this bird once, just after I moved in. It was an accident. I turned left at the top of the stairs instead of right and she was all ‘Oh, darling, did you come to say hello, you’re lovely aren’t you.’ She started to kiss the back of my neck and I was out of there like the clappers.

Empathy with dogs

The postman just woke me up. She's been shopping on bleedin' ebay again.

Dig for victory

I had to lie down after dinner while my bird rubbed my tummy. This story is going to take forever.

So there I was, locked up. These strangers made sure I was compliant by keeping me warm and feeding me regularly. For two weeks I was too tired to fight back.

But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. When you’ve lived on the streets, you learn a few tricks. By week three I had started a tunnel covering my tracks by pretending to be using the toilet. The work was exhausting and progress was slow. I would dig frantically for anything up to 45 seconds and then doze off, sometimes for hours on end. When I woke up I would be confused, forgetting where I was or what I had been doing.

Several times I started to dig again in the wrong place, accidentally filling in the previous work. Other times, I forgot my purpose and went to the toilet in the tunnel. With no ventilation shafts, the tunnel became unusable.

The plan wasn’t working.

Banged up

Sorry. I fell asleep and woke up 19 hours later with drool on the keyboard. I was trying to get to the bit of the story that explained how I moved in with this new bird.

I couldn’t believe it. I had evaded the law for so long and here I was, banged up without trial and kept in a windowless cell with primitive toilet facilities. I was forced to eat drug laced food. If I refused the food, they injected it into my leg. Sometimes I ate the food and they still injected me. They were always one step ahead of me with their clever games. They tried the old 'good cop/bad cop' routine. Sometimes it was all kind words and petting. Then they would begin prodding and poking me. Every now and then a strange man came in and put a thing in my bottom without warming it up first. The whole system was set up to break me down and make me renounce my ways.

Oh, hold on. She's rattling some saucepans. It must be dinner time.

A mis-spent youth

I was a right Jack the lad when I was younger. I used to break into houses and eat any food I found. If I felt like it I would scratch the wallpaper, wee in the kitchen and poo in the bath before sweeping the lady of the house off all fours. There was a time when I was responsible for 30% of the illegitimate births in the conversation area of broccoli, SE4. I thought they would never catch up with me.

Then I started to get ill and found I couldn’t be bothered to wash myself so regularly and I stopped thinking about sex. Things were bad. My face was crusty and my coat needed cleaning. I followed a lady home and pretended to like her cat. It was easy to get her to like me and we moved in together, just as friends. She seemed nice.

What a schmuck. Before the week was out I was reported to the authorities and I fell into a classic honey trap. Lady police enticed me with kind words and special tickles and suddenly I was in a cell in something called ‘ice-lation’. They told me I had gone ‘astray’ and was homeless and set about reforming me.