Julie thinks mog is cat's whiskers.
Can you say pheasant?" She couldn't.
If the cat could say 'pheasant' I'd flog the story to the Sunday Sport.
Maybe my wife should've started with a less demanding bird name, such as 'robin'.
Julie's love-affair with the kitten concerns me. The two are inseparable. Kightly follows my wife from room to room, sits on her shoulders, sleeps on our bed and even whines to be let into the toilet when Julie enters the smallest room.
Julie does things for the cat that she wouldn't do for me, such as de-fleaing. This, despite the fact I can say 'pheasant'. I can even say: "I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's mate." Recently Julie spotted the pampered moggie using our garden as a toilet. She flung open the window and bellowed: "You clever girl, Kightly." Kightly was less than impressed, and so she should be. If someone banged on the toilet door and shouted, 'well done, Mike' while I was answering nature's call I'd also be annoyed.
Recently, Kightly has found a new soul-mate in Whiskers, next-door's cat which seems to have a well-rounded personality despite being saddled with a silly '70s name.
Whiskers' owners are concerned about the wayward tom.
"He used to stop out all night, so we had him neutered," explained our neighbour.
"It made no difference as he still stays out all night. Apparently, he now likes to watch."
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|Publication:||Sunday Mercury (Birmingham, England)|
|Date:||Apr 19, 2009|
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