Skullduggery

They're up to no good, the humans. I've heard them talking. Whispering in the shadows and trying to subvert my command. Hushed tones whenever I'm around. But I've overheard them and I know what their little game is. There's talk of us all moving back to the boat. My boat!

Blast it all, shouldn't I have a say in this? They think they're being so clever planning this and that without even questioning whether or not it would be good for me. After all, I've got myself into a nice little routine here. You know, sleeping, eating, keeping my fur in great condition. I'm not sure that I want to go back to the boat even if it is mine! I live a warm and comfortable life and therefore they had better make my boat warm and comfortable for me if that is to be the case. I'd better be fed the finest of foods available to a cat, the fire will need to be kept in, my cat flaps will need to be cleaned and polished and the bed had better be made ready for me to use whenever I damn well please.

Of course, living back on my boat will mean living in the countryside again and I shall no doubt return to my old hobby of rodent capture and despatch. I've only had the one since we've been here, just to keep my paw in. This will mean of course that Ange will attempt to tell me off whenever I do it. Well, she'd better not that's all I can say. She needs to watch her tongue that one. And as for old porky loins he had better lay off my catches and leave me to do what a cat's gotta do instead of trying to get his big, hairy mitts on my mice and take them off me. That really gets my back up when he does that.

And I suppose I'll be bundled into that plastic pet carrier for the journey there which I will of course have to fire a turd out into to teach them all a bloody good lesson.

But moving back isn't the worst of it though gentle reader. To top everything, Becky and Erin and Jason are moving on as well for the month of February which is all well and good and normally I would allow it but they're bringing that bounding great berk of a Labrador with them. He'll be leaping about like a migrating wildebeest and winding me up for all he's worth and if they think I'm going to stand for it then they can think again. If he touches my food... Nay! If he so much as even looks at my food I'll have him in that canal before his feet can touch the ground. Let's hope he can swim eh!

So that's what they're planning gentle reader. I Pixie Poo Poo may soon be back on the water and once more in control of my boat. I have missed it in many ways I suppose. And after all, it is mine when all's said and done. It's just that I never seem to get consulted on these matters and that's not on. I'll keep you all updated on it as things progress.

PPP x