By Carscribe

Feeling catty ...

Miaow. I'm Alfie, and I'm in charge here today. Everyone knows that dogs have owners and cats have staff. Well I'm rather displeased with the staff at the moment, so I have pawed them out of the way.

It has not been the kind of day a cat likes. After breakfast I was ready to set off for a nice mouse hunt in the fields, but my door in the door was inexplicably locked, The cheek of it! Then I was picked up and expected to tolerate a cuddle - the staff like that kind of thing - but instead was unceremoniously inserted into a basket.

I knew what was coming. A trip to that place where they examine teeth, put some round metal thing against a feline chest, and stick a long sharp thing into the neck. The indignity of it all. The green tunic person said lots of nice things about me, the healthy state of my teeth, my shiny coat and my perfect weight, but of course I knew all of that anyway.

Oh, and that ridiculous, eager-to-please canine creature came too, to make matters worse. Not the orange slithery thing though, mercifully. It's bad enough having that staring at me through the glass and flicking out its forked tongue when I take a stroll through the utility room.

I'm back indoors now, but I'm cross, cross, cross. It's all so undignified for a cat.

Honestly, you can't get the staff these days. Miaow.

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