Typical.

I don't know. Give that cat something to write in, and he scribbles all over it, like an undisciplined toddler.

Well. At least the female's home. She has dumped her bags in a messy heap and is cooing over Ash. He's just done the yawny-meep thing the humans think is so cute. I simply cannot fathom why.

She has, though, given us the evening meaty deliciousness and left the door open. At least that way I don't have to put up with Ash pretending the only thing that keeps the cat flap safe is him guarding it. Oh, what's he doing now? He's using the cat flap. Even though the door's actually open. Typical.

Eye still a bit sore. Chest fine, now I think about it - as is my ear, although I've not forgiven that fat ginger tart for ruining my profile. Bum OK.

Think I'll sit on the roof and watch the sky.