I have to get out of bed, rouse mom and trundle down cold stairs to do my business.
That grass is freezing. Now it’s winter the blue dudes don’t mow it much and it tickles my furry fanny.
Sometimes it’s wet too. That’s doubly nasty.
I dash back upstairs, ready and willing to jump into my nice warm baskie, only to find that blasted Ralphie has taken it over.
Mom arrives back upstairs with my porridge (ok – it’s actually Alpha’s brekky but you all know the drill). She pats the duvet.
Says never mind Fudges – come snuggle on the bed with me.
But my baskie has sides – so when I burrow down it’s all warm and cosy – not like the duvet that is cold and clammy on top.
I give Ralph the evil eye. In fact – I go stick my cold nose on his furry tum – but he does not shift a whisker. Give up and get onto the bed.
I’ve just taken the chill off my patch of duvet when Alpha ting tings the side of his bowl.
Ah hah – brekky. But instead of nice porridge its some foefie popped rice stuff that tastes worse than the inside bits of toilet paper.
In fact, those are delicious compared.
Alpha is whinging too. Mom tells him… I told you so.
Popped rice tastes like cardboard. You should have bought the Rice Krispies. Alpha mumbles something about how he thought it should all taste the same.
Mom makes haarrumpf noises and Alpha starts reading the news on his cellphone.
The day has started.
Later on mom is drying her hair – and that wretched Ralph is still slumbering in my basket.
I skuggle their newly made bed a bit – trying to find some warmth. Mom offers me a blast of hot air from the dryer.
Ridiculous woman.
I wait until she is not concentrating and slink up to the corner of the bed – on Alpha’s side – furthest away from her.
Quietly rummage the corner of the duvet down and quick as a wink slip under the covers.
Immediately mom wags her finger at me. Fudges! Get out of that bed. I’ve just made it.
Stare back at her. No. It’s cold.
She made another plan. She piled the continental pillows on top of me and made me all warm and cosy instead.
